10 September 2002

I frequently spend my drive in to work pondering what to write about here. I also usually listen to the radio. Every so often, the two commingle.

I mentioned last week that I was not interested in re-living the 9/11 thing. I don't want to do it again. I don't need to be reminded. Maybe in ten or fifteen years, when the scars aren't still so tender.

So when my radio station was talking about it this morning as I pulled out of the neighborhood, I groaned. The DJs were talking about whether last year's events have really brought people closer together and made us value our friends more. It became apparent that they were going to take a few calls and then go back to playing music. I thought I could just bear with it for that long.

But the very first caller made my teeth ache like the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard. He didn't even mention 9/11.

He started out fairly reasonable, if somewhat reactionary: "Friends aren't what they used to be," he said. "Thirty years ago, you'd go over to a friend's house and talk out over a cup of coffee what people are going to therapists to discuss today."

I'll agree that there's a sensation of individualism and isolationism that has crept over us in the last few decades. I'll even agree that a lot of people are seeing therapists who really shouldn't need to. But I don't really know if I'll agree that it's a bad thing that psychiatric therapy became trendy, after decades of being shameful. A pendulum has to swing back and forth in both directions for a while before it settles at a reasonable midpoint.

But then he said, "I think the main place people find friends these days is in the church."

I turned the radio off right there. I knew I couldn't take this guy rambling on for another twenty or thirty seconds about church. I could tell he was going to, and the DJs always let the callers ramble on for far too long.

Fuck that noise.

Please understand, I'm not putting down churches or spiritualism. That's not something I do.

But let's not confuse spirituality with friendliness. Let's not confuse a house of worship with a social club.

There are plenty of people who do find their dearest friends in their house of worship. And that makes a certain amount of sense - you're certainly more likely to get along with people who share your beliefs.

But it's not really the church that's making you friends. It's just a convenient meeting place for people who have similar values and beliefs, and therefore a place where you're likely to find people who can be your friends. It's a place where you can trust that the people around you share at least some of your ideas. Am I making sense here?

You find your friends where you look for them.

Other people find friends at work or in school. Or in their AA groups. Or in book clubs. Or in gaming or sports groups (whatever your game of choice happens to be). Wherever you interact with people, wherever you share a common interest, you can find friends.

Radio call-in guy? He goes to church regularly. He feels comfortable there. He makes friends there. Bully for him.

But to say that most people find their best friends in church is an offensive generalization. I had to turn the radio off before he implied that friends you make elsewhere are inferior, and I had to get really mad.

Because the friends I have now - I met them in college, or gaming, or on the internet. They are smart and fun and funny. Teasing aside, they respect differing opinions. And they are loyal and generous and supportive and thoughtful and understanding.

I could ask for no better friends. And I won't stand by and let them be insulted.

Even if it means turning off the radio.

--Liz