Social media has taught me a lot lately. I realized that when you asked for help on social media, it is equivalent to being stabbed in public. Your friends and family who are not there in the streets to see you get stabbed are excused. They did not know. How could they help? But how about the others who were able to read your post?
My fundraiser had several reactions on Facebook:
- some immediately donated money from their pockets (they are like the ones who have cars and can drive you to the emergency room in no time)
- some did not have extra money but made sure their concern is felt through PMs and other contributions (prayers, blood, messages of support, re-sharing of link) – they are like the ones who do not have vehicles themselves but are there to press on the wound while calling 911
- some merely watched as I see group posts racking up “seen”, but I did not get a message from them (they are those who watch on the sidewalks, afraid that blood will be splattered on them)
It sounds slightly bitter, but I have to be brutally honest. Social media had shone a light on who my real friends are. Weirdly enough, a lot of those who offered their help (in words, cash, prayers, blood, etc.), were strangers. They had the right to turn their backs on me. The stabbing did not concern them. They do not know me, and yet they were able to say kind words. Some even took out money from their wallets. For all they know, this could all be a scam – this fundraiser for my 26 weeker niece. I could not blame them. In the streets, people worry about helping a stranger because it could be a ruse for a stickup. But friends, people who know you, they should be there. Right?
As a college student, I was extravagantly generous I would say. My dad is a doctor, after all, and he was also generous. He charges very little compared to other specialists. He worked free of charge several times when I was still little. He is a good example.
I once paid 3000 pesos to get a friend’s hair fixed. I lent 5000 pesos to a friend in need. I lent 1500 pesos to a student of mine. I never heard from him again. I never minded paying for my friends’ lunches whenever we went out because my tummy was too sensitive that I could no eat at carenderias. I guess I was hoping that karma would unleash something good for me. In the end, there are simply people who are good no matter what their circumstances are. The richest among my FB friends never contacted me. Friends who are struggling teachers, writers and artists are the ones who offered comfort in my time of need.
Because of my beautiful angel-niece, I learned a lot about friendship and appearances.
Trying to Write Like a Cat...and Failing 