blogs/rabbi-huberman

Gossip That Kills #447

I would like to introduce you to fifteen young people who are no more.
 
There are Jadin Bell, Tyler Clementi, Ryan Patrick Halligan, Jamie Hubley, Megan Meier, Alyssa Morgan, Rehtach Parsons, Audrie Pott, Phoebe Prince, Nicola Ann Raphael, Jamey Rodemeyer, Amanda Todd, Kenneth Weishuhn, Dawn-Marie Welsey and Kelly Yeoman.
 
In many ways, these were ordinary young people. They went to school. They had friends. They hung out at the mall. They were sons, daughters, brothers and sisters.
 
Each left this earth decades before their time. And they are not alone.
 
What unites this group of fifteen is that each committed suicide after being bullied, either in person or through social media.
 
Some were gay. Some faced disabilities.  Some were socially awkward. Some were taunted over body appearance. Some dressed differently. Some were sexually assaulted, and had to relive the pain and humiliation as photos of the attack were posted on social media.
 
They were aged thirteen to eighteen, and are frequently grouped together online, to convey what can happen when bullying, and in particular cyberbullying, is allowed to flourish without safeguards or oversight.
 
To be clear, bullying today is not what it used to be. I remember a bully at my high school regularly harassing me after I mistakenly bumped into him in the hallway. One of my friends was targeted every day for his lunch money; others were beaten up because they were Jewish.
 
This is something different.
 
According to U.S. Legal Definitions, cyberbullying consists of "posting rumors or gossips about a person in the internet bringing about hatred in others' minds; or it may go to the extent of personally identifying victims and publishing materials severely defaming and humiliating them."
 
And it is deadly.
 
In an era where more and more people live on their cell phones, where digital communication increasingly co-exists as a reality with face-to-face dialogue, the focus of what we refer to in Hebrew as lashon hara, or gossip, has shifted away from what we speak and towards what we type.
 
Psalm 34 tells us "to guard our tongue from evil and our lips from deceitful speech." Perhaps, based on current trends, that should be updated to include "guard our thumbs from harmful messages."
 
This week's Torah reading, on the surface, seems to be one of the most irrelevant and disgusting in our tradition. Parashat Tazriadescribes the treatment of leprosy. It also talks about blood, mold and bodily impurities.
 
And perhaps because of this, our Sages over the centuries have led us on an amazing journey, which ultimately makes this Torah reading one of the most relevant of all.
 
Based on this week's Torah portion, rabbis for centuries have taught that the misuse of language can "get under our skin." Referencing the example of Miriam who contracted a skin disease after she gossiped about her brother Moses, rabbis conclude that there exists a connection between our words and our physical and mental health.
 
Gossip can divert our hearts. It can ruin reputations. It can cause societies to crumble.
 
More than ever, we are suffering from the symptoms of this verbal disease.
 
Reality television, entertainment gossip shows, and programs which lead us to mock others or obsess about physical appearance are not only eroding the foundation of our society, but on a personal, fundamental level are causing untold pain, isolation, loneliness, and suffering.
 
This trend is even reflected in the current election campaign. As broadcaster Rex Murphy recently noted, certain aspects of the political primaries reflect "life's revenge against reality television."
 
It is easy for older generations to complain. Every day we bemoan the fact that a new generation lives through these devices. But, increasingly, so do we.
 
So what can we do?
 
Do we sit back and allow children to possess unmonitored tools which can hurt, humiliate, and, in some extreme cases, lead to the deaths of others?
 
Or do we remember the lessons of our Sages, who warn us against the power of the words, to either build or destroy lives?
 
The Talmud reminds us that we may not be able to cure the ills of the entire world, but we cannot walk away from the task. We can affect our corner of the universe.
 
There are solutions. Experts remind us:
You are within your rights to review the texts and emails your child is sending and receiving. Thirteen-year-olds do not always display mature judgement.
When you buy a cell phone for your child, or grant internet access, ensure that you have a conversation with your son or daughter regarding responsible use.
Rather than leave your child to the influence of peers, initiate conversations about diversity. 
Do not be afraid to be a parent.
Open a social networking account so that you can become aware of both the positivity and pitfalls of social media. 
Become aware of some of the more than 1,500 abbreviations commonly used in text communication. Of particular interest should be POS (Parent Over Shoulder).
Insist that all electronic devices be turned off at the dinner table, in restaurants, or in certain family or social settings, and these rules, once established, must apply as firmly to parents as to children.
As a father, grandfather, rabbi, and citizen at large, I have tremendous faith in the ability of this and future generations to use technology wisely.
 
Technology has enabled us to witness and rally against injustices around the world. Studies also indicate that children possess the ability to filter so much of the thousands of messages aimed at them every day.
 
Still, the potential of technology to hurt, humiliate and ultimately end the lives of others remains.
 
This week's Torah portion reminds us to use the power of words wisely, and to muster the courage to challenge popular trends.
 
This past Sunday while in Boston I attended a dinner sponsored by the AJC Global Jewish Advocacy, which united about five hundred members of the Jewish community with about twenty international diplomats working in the Boston area.
 
The Diplomats' Seder focused on the pursuit of freedom and highlighted many places where slavery endures. In many countries, women and children are still bought and sold. Religious freedom is restricted. Gays and lesbians are targeted.
 
As we approached the section which listed the Ten Plagues, leaders of the Seder added something I had not seen before: "Antidotes to the Plagues of our Time."
 
They included freedom, acceptance, democracy, equality, human rights, peace, security, respect, coexistence, and pluralism.
 
Perhaps if we commonly taught and championed these antidotes, reinforcing that technology is a privilege rather than an entitlement -- then perhaps one or more of that group of fifteen would be alive today.
 
We are about to enter the Passover season. It is our yearly opportunity to officially embrace the message of freedom.
 
But freedom is not just about the Israelites' Exodus from Egypt more than three thousand years ago, it is also about guarding and nurturing the respect and dignity of all human beings today.
 
As we gather around the Seder table in two weeks, we will recite the Mah Nishtana, the plagues and enjoy a festive meal. Let us also remember to look thoughtfully at our troubled world, and to commit towards using words wisely - whether they emanate from our mouths or our thumbs.
 
As we recite the Ten Plagues of the Exodus, or reflect upon the plagues of today, let us also commit ourselves towards the "Antidotes."
 
As the Torah instructs, Pesach is a time to teach our children, and to inspire them towards Derech Eretz, "the way of the world."
 
Let us also remember in our reflections to include teachings about dignity and diversity, and how the misuse of words can deeply injure others.
 
Indeed, as parents and as role models, it is time to say "enough."
 
"Dayenu."
 
Shabbat shalom, v'kol tuv (with all goodness)
 
Rabbi Irwin Huberman