Read on Twitter
Up until lockdown, I had the privilege of being invited to speak about EU Citizens in Scotland & explaining the Settled Status system at numerous Yes groups & SNP branches. Often, especially during Q&As, lively debates ensued, touching on various other indy & SNP-related topics >
> On a number of occasions, for example, the issue of a unilateral declaration of independence was brought up. I vehemently disagree with that approach, but still, when you're having those discussions in real life, things rarely ever get acrimonious. Twitter is the opposite. >
> This is a platform not built for nuanced, empathetic conversations. And because we're now spending so much time here and so little time socialising in real life, due to the pandemic, Twitter can make us feel that things are actually much darker than they really are. >
> Don't get me wrong: the bigotry we see here doesn't exist in a vacuum. It's out there in the real world too. But here it's amplified, to the point that it can actually feel overwhelmingly claustrophobic, like it's closing in on you. >
> I never asked to have the platform that I have. It just happened. It comes with a lot of positives, but it comes with a lot of hassle & grief too. What I've learned is that no one is entitled to my time, to demand my attention, to control my content or my language. Fuck that. >
> Tweet your truth, speak in your own voice, say as much or as little as you want to say. Block, mute, close your DMs, limit replies to your tweets and opt out of Twitter notifications, if you need to keep your mental wellbeing safe. Put your own oxygen mask on first. >
> Twitter is a subsection of reality, not the entirety of it. Outside of social media, it's possible to debate complicated issues without being at each other's throats all the time. Keep yourself safe, and if the darkness feels overwhelming, take a break. No one's owed your time.
