For Whom the Words Troll
I didn’t know the word ‘troll’ when I returned from Cambodia in 2008. It was a strange phenomenon. News articles online. Social media, mostly Facebook at the time. There were people hanging out in the comment sections with an intentional goal to shock. The meaner, the more vulgar, the more crass, the most argumentative, the most racist, the better. Initially believed to be the late-night antics of young teenage boys looking for a place to show up. Even if uninvited. To have power. To hold the room captive with their contributions. To have human connection. Contentious human connection. But connection nonetheless. To be somebody. People took notice. And the once uninvited wall flower, now civil discourse villain, has the attention of everyone in the chat room. For them, it was intoxicating.
I quickly learned that this phenomenon was not relegated to teenagers impersonating obnoxious adults online. It was also adults embodying sinister online personas with all the boldness and creativity that anonymity affords. Taking their cues from every motion picture where bullies and mean girls, before the moralizing began, had some great one-liners that placed them in places of respect and well-earned fear. Their words had the power to change lives. Topple self-esteem. Thwart personal goals. Force a room of lesser people to nervously laugh in solidarity with their venomous attacks. For them, it was intoxicating.
I heard celebrity after celebrity say things like, I rarely read anything about myself on social media. I was incredulous. These are people who live to be recognized. All press, even bad press, was always considered good press. Keeping your name in the headlines at all costs. But this was not your grandmother’s “Hollywood” with star struck fans merely demanding an autograph. Their world included the terrorism of abusive paparazzi who colluded with the newest celebrity debutante in the entertainment industry, the troll. The mixture of photo images and salacious written words were choreographed for sensational headlines. It didn’t matter their age, their home address, their personal lives, their personal safety or that journalism was supposed to be about truth. It was all such a rush. For them, it was intoxicating.
In 2008, There was a place where I was most disappointed to see not only the existence of trolls, but their actual veneration and flourishing. This was in the political arena. The baton of civil discourse and commitment to facts had be passed on to propaganda, name calling and clever sound bites. Most disappointing were those who spoke of their love for Jesus in their Facebook post on Sunday, but by Tuesday, went on to share posts calling Barack Obama, O-dumbo, racially questioning his citizenship and using scripture to call for his wife to be a widow and his children fatherless. Cable news gave microphones to those holding the most stellar political trolling credentials. The ratings were the highest. For them, and their Christian audience, it was intoxicating.
It has recently occurred to me why I have such a visceral response to trolls. It’s because they are familiar. Whether teenager in a dark room, news reporter or Presidential candidate, they remind me of how it feels to talk to a person impacted by alcohol. Their words cut deep. Their words have the power to quiet voices. Impact self-esteem and self-worth. Their words manipulate and gaslight. Their words are intended to hurt. They are careless and ignore the long term collateral damage in individuals and families. They initiate the beginning of trauma. Creating boundaries for the troll is as necessary as for those impacted by any substance. Whatever distance or truth telling looks like in the moment becomes important. Your peace is always important. Especially recognizing it’s not you, it’s them and their words are intoxicated.