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Don't be a dick to content creators

> Social media has given us the power to be massive assholes... but can we just not?

Rebecca Peterson
Assistant Editor

 

A h, Twitter. There was a time where I had
0 idea what it was or how it worked.
Now, I still don’t know how it works, but I’m

all too aware of what it is, and what it can do.

You see, social media has become this
wonderful bridge that connects content
creators with their fans. Gone are the days
of writing hopeful fan mail (or hate mail,
depending on how you felt about last week’s
plot twist) to the writer of your choice and
sending it off by snail mail to a generalized
post box, knowing there would be several
layers of filters for that letter to wade
through before ever reaching the hands of
its intended recipient. Now, in the space of a
few quick taps on the keyboard and with 140
characters to play with, our every thought
can be tossed out in the general direction of

\

 

our intended target with an “@” symbol ora
hashtag.

Please don't take this as a “hurr-
durr technology is bad and millennials
are destroying the post office with their
smartphones” think piece, because it’s not.
I think it is fascinating that we have this
power to connect with complete strangers so
quickly and easily. What's bothering me is
what people are doing with it.

See, what writing an angry letter gives
you that writing an angry tweet doesn't, is
time. You have time while writing an angry
letter by hand to consider whether telling
someone that they're a no-talent hack who
doesn't deserve to live over whether or not
your favourite character got enough screen
time is a worthy use of ink and paper. You
have time walking from your house to the
post box to think about the effort you're
putting in to letting someone who was

Li

probably directed to write the thing you
didn't like by a producer who makes a lot
more money than they do know that you
think they're a good-for-nothing jerk-off. You
have time while that letter delivers, painfully
slowly, to think about how petty your words
might have been, how much of a non-issue
this whole thing really is, how it’s a TV show,
for christ sake, it’s a TV show, and maybe
time to hope that the letter never actually
reaches its intended target. Which, given
how flooded well-known writers and content
creators can get with feedback and fan mail,
it might not.

You don't have that time on Twitter
(or Facebook, or Instagram, or God help us,
Tumblr).

I'm not saying you shouldn't criticize the
media you consume—by all means, go for it.
But you should be taking into consideration
who youre directing your criticism at, and
how constructive it is. If you're blasting
an office PA on Twitter who happens to
work for a show that’s taken a direction
you dont like by demanding them to tell
the producers to screw themselves, you're
neither A) contributing in a meaningful way
to a constructive conversation and providing
valuable feedback or B) even talking to
the right person. Oftentimes the person
providing the “face” of the problem—writers,
directors, etc.—aren't the ones in charge
of making these decisions. A writer for a
show can't control what the producer asks
them to do, after all, and sometimes the
writers are just as upset over what they've
had to write for their paycheck as you are. It’s
not like they'd be able to say that on social
media while keeping their job, anyway. As
someone with friends and family in the film
industry, believe me, their social media is
often carefully monitored for anything that

could harm the production or the company
attached.

Besides, a lot of the vitriol I see hurled
at writers and, for the love of all things holy,
actors—who genuinely have no control over
story points, by-the-by—has nothing to
do with what could be considered genuine
criticism, and more to do with what the
consumer wants from their show that they
feel they've been cheated of. Do you want
more Lance in Voltron: Legendary Defender?
Fantastic. If you have to say anything, say
that Lance is a character you really love and
you can't wait to see more of him. Sending
the actor who plays Pidge in Voltron angry
messages and tweets claiming that there’s a
grand conspiracy to keep Lance out of the
show and all the writers are talentless losers
because of it is not going to help your case.
Atall.

(Seriously, actors have literally no
control over these decisions, what are you
even trying to do??)

At the end of the day, social media is
just like any other tool—it can be used for
good, or for pointless nonsense. If youre
going to use it to send pointless hate to the
wrong people, you're essentially doing the
online equivalent of banging your head
against a wall. If you're lucky, the only person
you'll hurt is you. If you're unlucky, you
may find your favourite content creators
arent quite so willing to connect with their
audience online anymore.

So maybe give yourself that time to
think before sending an angry tweet. At the
very least, take that time to look up who
actually makes the creative decisions you're
upset about.

(Hint: It’s literally never, ever the
actors.)

(Orthe PAs.)

What can I get for you this morning?

> Why you should be nice to your barista

Jillian McMullen
Staff Writer

 

Hn spent the last two years
serving humanity post-caffeine
fix, I’ve dealt with every kind of
unnecessary rudeness imaginable. I’ve
had triple-shot, quarter-sweet, one-
percent, no foam, 185-degree Caramel
Macchiatos thrown at me because the
drizzle “didn’t look right.” I’ve even
had someone purposely urinate on the
floor of the café because the line-up for
the washrooms “was taking too long.”
While these examples are
exceptional, saying your average
barista must deal with a lot over
the course of a shift would be an
understatement. So, what I am going
to suggest is—simply—be nice to the
brave soul who has somehow ended up
between you and your morning vice.
Baristas serve hundreds of people
a day, most not even looking away
from their phones to mumble their
orders. We're instructed to ask about
grabbing you that blueberry muffin
and we're obligated to get a name for
that cup. A polite “no thank you” and

some eye contact makes having to
confront the next half-asleep patron
much less intimidating. In fact, if you're
one of the few people who remember
our names—not because they’re on
our aprons, but because you've taken
the time to learn something about the
person who serves you every morning—
and asks how our days are going, you
will reap the benefits of being one
amongst a very small group. These
benefits can range from something as
simple as having your drink waiting
for you at the bar when you walk in,
to letting you sample new drinks and
food before they're made available to
the public, even to getting your lunch
on the house if you've had a rough day.
We want to make our customers as
happy as possible. Making someone’s
day is the best part of the job, and it
makes dealing with the rude customers
worth it. But everyone has their limits,
so remember this: If you are the 164th
random person to snap at us simply
because you haven't been caffeinated
yet, there aren't enough espresso
shots in the world that can help you—
because we will definitely decaf you.

  

Image via bluemaize.net