This weekend I’ll spend a lot of time packing my duffle bag, no doubt packing way too many clothes, as my partner and I prepare for our annual vacation. We’re heading west and will reconnect with a lot friends we only see once a year.
Typically I would be excited to see them all, especially one young woman who I had the opportunity to spend a lot of one-on-one time with a couple of years ago when she and her mother visited Florida. During that visit I learned her sense of humor were right in line with mine and that our shared likes and dislikes were strikingly similar. We bonded, and have remained in constant contact thanks to Facebook and text messaging.
But things may be awkward on this trip, and it’s all related to how I react when I see her face-to-face. You see, she adamantly supported Chick-fil-A Appreciation Day in August, which boosted sales of the chain’s food to record-breaking numbers.
It’s a subject beaten to death on social media, blogs and cable news channels. When Chick-fil-A honcho Dan Church shared that he was “guilty as charged” for supporting anti-marriage equality movements, the fast food chain became a spotlight for social inequality in the country. Many saw support of the restaurant as a direct assault to their personal rights, while others simply saw Church’s stance as a First Amendment issue..
Like many in the LGBT community, I was appalled that anyone could support a business that not only donated to anti-marriage equality battles, but supported an organization that gave money to groups that supported the execution of gay people in foreign countries. It was a direct, personal attack on the LGBT community. When I saw the pictures of long lines of people anxiously awaiting their chicken on Aug. 1, it was disheartening.
The sting of those pictures has faded somewhat, mostly because they were a sea of unfamiliar faces. But nothing hurt quite as much as reading the posts and viewing the pictures from my friend, who I will see within just a few days of writing this Editor’s Desk.
Unlike my partner, and many others, I did not make a big deal of my friends’ actions as they related to this issue through Facebook. If you supported Chick-fil-A, I quietly removed you from my list of friends and moved on. That was statement enough for me. If you can’t support my basic rights, why should I share the simplest of things like my Friday night movie selection or the funny joke I heard at work?
But “de-friending” on Facebook is much different than facing a disappointing friend in real life. And I have to decide if that’s the step I want to take with this woman and, by association, her mother, whom I have also always liked.
Do I will embrace them with the warm hugs we’ve shared in the past, or do I simply nod in their general direction, avoid contact and hope the awkward silence forces one of them to ask me what’s wrong.
My response to the inquiry is ready and loaded in my brain. I’ve played it over in my mind countless times whether I’m standing in the shower, sweating in the gym or playing with my dog. But is it a speech I’m prepared to deliver in the cold, crushing way I’ve imagined?
Am I justified in unleashing this torrent of disappointment I’ve held onto for more than a month? This is not a response to a Facebook post, this is a personal encounter that can redefine a relationship.
The woman in question has shared with my partner via text that she now “understands” why the LGBT community was so hurt by Chick-fil-A’s stance. But she hasn’t said anything about it to me. And admittedly, I’m completely in the dark when it comes to her mother’s views on the issues.
My gut tells me to show her warmth, and find a way to bring up the subject in a non-combative way. But I’m uncertain I can do that. Being indirect is not one of my strengths.
Time will tell how I share my feelings, and regardless of the method, all I can hope is that some form of education gets relayed in the process.
