I used a high-school debate on abortion to talk about political intolerance. Guess how people reacted?
The other week, I wrote an article about debating “pro-life” in high school. I was then—and continue to be—passionately pro-choice. But my political stance isn’t the point—the piece was about the effect of the class’s conduct.
I expressed an unpopular point of view and was yelled at, mocked, and—for a time—ostracized.
The experience of being ganged up on by 25 of my peers so rattled and disoriented me, I soon found myself arguing my “side” with genuine feeling. It was a strange experience—especially because I wasn’t pro-life—to find myself tendentiously defending a cause I deplored—due to being attacked by others.
As soon as the article was posted, the comments section exploded.
Pro-choicers defended their right to be angry and treat others with the disrespect they “deserve.”
Pro-lifers defended their right to be angry and treat others with the disrespect they “deserve.”
At times, the comments veered into personal attacks: this writer is "pathetic," "whiny," "delusional," "an idiot."
And still, despite an eruption of online acrimony that perfectly mirrored my experience in high school, people insisted my memory was either faulty, or I was outright making it up. Fortunately, the irony wasn’t lost on everybody. A few commenters defended my piece better than I did:
“This post isn’t about the topic of abortion nor debates,” reads one. “It’s a discussion about how we treat each other as humans and our lack of control of our emotions leading to incivility.”
“Human beings are all individuals,” reads another. “But that individuality is bounded within a shared human experience. Unfortunately, that means that all of us are susceptible to these horrid little psychological tics. And we're living in a hyper-charged time. I hate to say it, but they're only human, reacting to information as opposed to processing it.”
I chose to write about this memory because I thought it illustrated, in microcosm, the tenor of debate in this country. I wish we lived in a world in which abortion rights weren’t up to debate—in which a woman’s bodily autonomy is a given. But we don’t.
And now we have an accused abuser on the Supreme Court. He is deeply conservative, and—judging by his anti-Democrat, conspiracy-driven rhetoric—possibly vindictive. Roe v. Wade is more vulnerable than ever—that’s just the reality. And yelling and sneering at pro-lifers is not only not helping—it’s working against us.
We need to figure out how to calm down and strategize.
Photo by Wojtek Radwanski//Getty Images.
I am by no means saying we shouldn’t feel outraged—we should. The injustices in our country are beyond the pale. But this isn’t about how we feel—it’s about how communicate.
Over the past 20 years, we have all learned to speak fluent internet. This morning, The New York Times reported: “Social media is emboldening people to cross the line and push the envelope on what they are willing to say to provoke and to incite.... The problem is clearly expanding.”
Angry outbursts and name-calling is so normalized, it's become our national parlance—something even our leaders engage in to appeal to (or alienate) the masses, advance politically, and deepen the divide.
Should we continue to drain our energy spewing vitriol online? Or should we rant instead to our friends, our family members, and therapists—people who love us, hear us, and are invested in our well-being—so we can metabolize our rage and move on to enacting real change?
Venting spleen on the internet may seem innocuous and “therapeutic,” but it is not. It is dangerous. Trolling is not akin road rage, where we yell things in the privacy of our cars we’d never say to someone’s face. The internet appears to offer the same privacy and anonymity as our cars—but it’s an illusion. Those other drivers—they can hear us. We are stoking real emotions with real—at time, deadly—consequences.
In addition to the illusion of privacy, the internet creates an illusion of control—we all think we're the ones driving. But, in reality, we are all in this car together—a brakeless clown car stuffed with millions of rage-demented clowns with Trump at the wheel. And while we all call each other idiots and pelt each other with “angry face” emojis, he's heading straight for a cliff.
Something has to change. The most moving—and effective—moments in history involved peaceful non-reaction to outrageous insult. If we are serious about our rights, then action—not reaction—may be the way forward.
There's a reason why some people can perfectly copy accents, and others can't
Turns out, there's a neurodivergent link.
A woman in black long sleeve shirt stands in front of mirror.
Have you ever had that friend who goes on vacation for four days to London and comes back with a full-on Queen's English posh accent? "Oooh I left my brolly in the loo," they say, and you respond, "But you're from Colorado!" Well, there are reasons they (and many of us) do that, and usually it's on a pretty subconscious level.
It's called "accent mirroring," and it's actually quite common with people who are neurodivergent, particularly those with ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). According Neurolaunch, the self-described "Free Mental Health Library," "Accent mirroring, also known as accent adaptation or phonetic convergence, is the tendency to unconsciously adopt the accent or speech patterns of those around us. This linguistic chameleon effect is not unique to individuals with ADHD, but it appears to be more pronounced and frequent in this population."
Essentially, when people have conversations, we're constantly "scanning" for information—not just the words we're absorbing, but the inflection and tone. "When we hear an accent, our brains automatically analyze and categorize the phonetic features, prosody, and intonation patterns," writes Neurolaunch. For most, this does result in copying the accent of the person with whom we're speaking. But those with ADHD might be more sensitive to auditory cues. This, "coupled with a reduced ability to filter out or inhibit the impulse to mimic…could potentially explain the increased tendency for accent mirroring."
While the article explains further research is needed, they distinctly state that, "Accent mirroring in individuals with ADHD often manifests as an unconscious mimicry of accents in social situations. This can range from subtle shifts in pronunciation to more noticeable changes in intonation and speech rhythm. For example, a person with ADHD might find themselves unconsciously adopting a Southern drawl when conversing with someone from Texas, even if they’ve never lived in the South themselves."
People are having their say online. On the subreddit r/ADHDWomen, a thread began: "Taking on accents is an ADHD thing?" The OP shares, "My whole life, I've picked up accents. I, myself, never noticed, but everyone around me would be like, 'Why are you talking like that??' It could be after I watched a show or movie with an accent or after I've traveled somewhere with a different accent than my 'normal.'
They continue, "Apparently, I pick it up fast, but it fades out slowly. Today... I'm scrolling Instagram, I watch a reel from a comedian couple (Darcy and Jeremy. IYKYK) about how Darcy (ADHD) picks up accents everywhere they go. It's called ADHD Mirroring??? And it's another way of masking."
(The OP is referring to Darcy Michaels and his husband Jeremy Baer, who are both touring comedians based in Canada.)
Hundreds of people on the Reddit thread alone seem to relate. One comments, "Omfg I've done this my whole life; I'll even pick up on the pauses/spaces when I'm talking to someone who is ESL—but English is my first language lol."
Sometimes, it can be a real issue for those around the chameleon. "I accidentally mimicked a waitress's weird laugh one time. As soon as she was out of earshot, my family started to reprimand me, but I was already like 'oh my god I don’t know why I did that, I feel so bad.'"
Many commenters on TikTok were shocked to find out this can be a sign of ADHD. One jokes, "Omg, yes, at a store the cashier was talking to me and she was French. She's like 'Oh are you French too? No, I'm not lol. I'm very east coast Canada."
And some people just embrace it and make it work for them. "I mirror their words or phrase! I’m 30. I realized I start calling everyone sweetie cause my manager does & I work at coffee shop."