Author Meghann Foye published a fictional novel about a woman who fakes pregnancy in order to receive maternity leave from a stressful job. Cute, harmless plot. Then Foye publicly voiced that childless women should be entitled to maternity leave based on work inequality.
"The more I thought about it, the more I came to believe in the value of a “meternity” leave — which is, to me, a sabbatical-like break that allows women and, to a lesser degree, men to shift their focus to the part of their lives that doesn’t revolve around their jobs,” she said. “And yet, after 10 years of working in a job where I was always on deadline, I couldn’t help but feel envious when parents on staff left the office at 6 p.m. to tend to their children, while it was assumed co-workers without kids would stay behind to pick up the slack."
Hackles rose. Pitchforks came out. Village mayhem via social media ensued. Foye’s supporters argued that hers was a benign fictional piece whilst critics contended that she is emblematic of a Generation X narcissist. All, however, was enough for Foye to cancel her appearance on "Good Morning America." “She has just pulled out of the interview. There has been so much backlash about her comments, viewers across the country weighing in on this all night long,” said “GMA” host Amy Robach.
Aside from an occasional tweet, Foye has since gone radio silent.
The problem lies not with Foye expressing a controversial opinion but her unwillingness to continue the dialogue she generated. Foye had an audience — the perfect opportunity to propose or execute a solution for what she had deemed imbalanced — yet she retreated.
Sound familiar?
Athletes kneeling during our National Anthem are as equally slothful but far more reckless. Their actions albeit peaceful and within constitutional rights are not enterprising. Their failure to expound beyond kneeling, coupled with society’s growing inability to engage in civil banter, is dividing America further. And how can it not? They are essentially sullying our country’s flag with no set plans to help fix what they have deemed unjust.
Example: Soccer player Megan Rapinoe took Colin Kaepernick’s cue at a club match on Sept. 5. “I think it's actually pretty disgusting the way he was treated and the way that a lot of the media has covered it and made it about something that it absolutely isn't. We need to have a more thoughtful, two-sided conversation about racial issues in this country,” she stated, tweeting later, “It's the least I can do. Keep the conversation going.”
Rapinoe has since admitted that “the conversation” hasn’t been as magnanimous as she had hoped. "To be honest, not as many [meaningful conversations] as I would want, or not as many as I would think that would be appropriate for what I'm trying to talk about. A lot of the conversation has been about the medium of protest and if there is offense to that and me having to defend myself against claims of being anti-American or anti-police or anti-military.”
Her failure to spark enlightened conversations comes as no surprise. Why? She diverted from the dialogue she initiated. Sure, she has chatted incessantly about critics’ slights but nothing pertaining to how we can move forward as a nation. Not once has she said, "This is what I think I can do to help America move towards more equality.”
What’s the lesson here?
Loud voices are powerful only when accompanied by a willingness to fix the unjust.
Example: In 1955, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. led a boycott of Montgomery buses that received national attention. In 1958, his manifesto, "Stride Toward Freedom," was published in which he said, “Through nonviolent resistance, the Negro will be able to rise to the noble height of opposing the unjust system while loving the perpetrators of the system.” In 1963, he was arrested then jailed for participating in anti-segregation protests.
The same year, he delivered his legendary “I Have a Dream” speech during a capital march attended by over 200,000 protesters. In 1964, he published, “Why We Can’t Wait.” Congress then passed an act that outlawed segregation and discrimination. Because of his efforts, he received the Nobel Peace Prize. In 1965, King vied for equal voting rights and held a rally on state capitol grounds. Congress then passed the Voting Rights Act of 1965. In 1966, King began to advocate for impoverished minorities.
Dr. King was a loud voice but a loud voice willing to get his hands dirty.
Can the same be said for the loud voices I exemplified? Nope. All are banking on shock value with little intent of dirtying hands. And each time they do so, it costs us a little more of our unity. They speak, we grab pitchforks, we take sides. When the loud voices grow quiet, as they often do, we are left standing with our pitchforks — jaded, confused, divided.
Bottom line?
Be wary of loud voices as they often divide, not unify.
Cindi Merrell is a mother, wife and English teacher.