This post may only resonate with a small amount of people that read my blog. But that’s okay. I watch a lot of YouTube videos. It’s one of my favorite things to do, as it allows me to get a glimpse at life outside of my own experiences. But YouTube has been running into problem after problem in the last few years, and we started off 2018 with a major scandal right out of the gate. Vlogging has blown up on the platform, and can take many forms-- from family vlogs (like KKandBabyJ) to Casey Neistat and his artistic and intentional vlogging style. Vlogs are the ultimate behind-the-scenes look and can be entertaining -- I have no problem with vlogging. A lot of creators only vlog during certain months to celebrate the holidays, and others do it 365 days of the year. It’s a strenuous video schedule, but many keep up with it. When Vine shut down, the people who created a life off creating the 6-second shorts were scrambling to find a new platform to work on. And many chose YouTube and absolutely changed the face of the outlet. But some only brought unnecessary issues with them during the Vine Invasion. Two people in particular came from Vine and YouTube hasn’t been the same since. Logan and Jake Paul are dueling brothers who both started on Vine and moved with the switch, where they decided to daily vlog and post their lives online. They have put out over 900 videos combined, but the content of the videos varies from the boys just living their (obnoxious) lives to playground-esque diss tracks. The demographic consists primarily of 8 to 12 year olds, and the Paul brothers are openly disliked by a large percentage of original YouTubers. The age of the audience fine. I’m cool with that (reluctantly, but I'm not going to tell anyone who and what to watch). But Logan rang in the new year by going to the Suicide Forest in Japan (called Aokigahara) to create a vlog about the haunted aspect of the area. That’s not unheard of, in fact, VICE NEWS did a piece on the forest and discussed the haunted element of the forest, but it was done tastefully. Logan walked out in his Toy Story alien hat and decided to stray off of the trail to explore where he and his friends came across a man hanging from a tree. The man had travelled into a deeper part of the woods to quietly commit suicide, and Logan filmed the entire experience, including zooming in on the (now blurred) face and hands of the man. Now, I cannot fathom how hard that must be to come across something like that. As someone who lives with mental illness and survived suicidal thoughts and tendencies, I will never be able to explain how low you have to be to see that as a solution to a problem. And one thing I never wanted was to have a spotlight on how ill I actually was (granted, I was living to voice that opinion, which I suppose is grounds for a discussion). But Logan and his friends not only showed the man (even getting closer to analyze how purple his hands were), but laughed and acted as if one of the members of their friend group had just pulled a prank on another member. That could be his natural response to strenuous situations (although I wouldn’t recommend showing that in this situation). But nonetheless… Logan Paul saw, recorded, edited, reviewed, and uploaded a video that contained footage of someone who had committed suicide for a demographic that consisted of young kids and teens. Now Logan Paul said that he uploaded the vlog to “raise awareness” for suicide. And for Logan’s sake, I wish that that is what he had actually intended. But in terms of what it accomplished, intent didn't matter in this case because he did not take into account the nature of the footage and the audience that would consume it. Negligence, or even ignorance, is not a good enough excuse here. Now, veteran YouTuber, Philip Defranco mentioned something I didn’t even realize. Logan’s fans defended him, saying “Well, he posted a warning.” And yeah, he definitely did. But to even see the warning, you have to click on a thumbnail that consists of Logan in a stupid hat with the shot of the dead man. The warning doesn’t do anything when you put what you’re warning your audience from in front of their face. That’s insane and so socially irresponsible, and I’m not even thinking about the fact that young teens or older children (they’re different to me, sorry) will see this. You can't say that Logan didn't know that there wasn't a possibility they would see something like that. An area doesn't get a name like "Suicide Forest" because that's what just sounds interesting at the time-- PEOPLE GO THERE TO DIE. So what now? I found a lot of people asking YouTube this question after the scandal broke, myself included. But YouTube did the equivalent of this: -\_(ツ)_/- I practically heard the “Welllllllll. He got us a lot of money in the last 12 hours, and he took it down. So let’s just send an apology to the creators and wash our hands of it.” And to that, I say, YOUTUBE, YOU HAVE A MASSIVE RESPONSIBILITY AND YOU NEED TO STEP UP. It is ridiculous that a video containing footage of someone who committed suicide was trending for hours on a website that demonetizes videos containing family-friendly LGBT+ content on a regular basis. You punish less popular creators for speaking about controversial issues taking place in the world, but give passive consent to a 22 year old man to “make YouTube history” by posting a video of someone who was so mentally damaged that they could no longer live with the burden anymore. I am 19 years old and have struggled with mental illness, and suicidal thoughts and tendencies. The video, while intended to be a joke or boost his views, was damaging to me. I can only imagine what it did to those who did not realize the nature of the video or the children who watched it in an auto-play situation. So parents, see what your kids are watching and talk to them about mental illness. If the only support they feel is from a 22 year-old YouTuber saying, "You're not alone. Link in bio for my merch," they may think that this behavior is acceptable and it is not. -The Cynic
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You are sitting still, listening to music. There’s usual chaos happening around you and you’re quietly watching your friends play ping pong like they do every Friday night. Only this time, you are thinking. And thinking. And thinking. The music is swirling and you just sit as you listen to your head taunt you. Your chest is tightening, like your shirt is too small but it’s not made of cotton. It’s like it’s made from unforgiving leather that doesn’t move when you breathe-- it feels like it’s a sick spin on dominatrix attire. And your eyes swell with tears. You know you’re about to cry, but then you know you will stop the fun your friends are having.
You know you’re about two therapy-breathes away from melting. So you stand. Robotic and wild, leaving your headphones dangling from your ears and your phone on the table that sits in front of you. There is no sound. So you walk quickly, avoiding eye contact and praying you have the strength to swing the nearby bathroom door open and the energy to throw yourself inside. One of your friends asks, “Are you okay?” Your legs are suddenly pendulum ropes, your feet are weights. But you’re still walking. You arrive at the bathroom door and reach for the knob. There is contact, but no grip. So you turn to the nearby corner as your significant other reaches for you. He swings you around and looks for your eyes behind mats and tresses of hair. Your balled fist fights through the tangle of arms and hands to come rest on your chest. You are sobbing now. No words, no sound from you, but tears. He asks, frantic, “What’s wrong?” You just pound on your chest with your fist. He understands. You are swept up into a reassuring embrace. “Hold her and she will come down,” he thinks. The game has stopped. There are only eyes now and the night has slowed. You’re, both, exhausted and wired. Returning to your seat, everyone who was standing is now around you. Your significant other sitting at your right hand, coaxing it. You feel like you’re back to the old version of yourself. But he reassures you, “It’s okay. You’re okay.” I write all of this as a simultaneous combination between an explanation and a coping mechanism. I have a lot of anxiety about writing this post about anxiety. The irony. I don’t know what it’s like to not have anxiety. As a child, anxiety showed its form in odd ways -- freaking out about a car driving too close to me, being afraid of people who don’t blink often, and even being so afraid to ask my teacher to use the bathroom that I would hold it until I got home that afternoon. I have lived with fear my whole life. I thought when I came to college that I would figure myself out more. I would be able to handle my anxiety because I was now completely in control of my life and what was in it. And for freshman year, that was probably how it was. But sophomore year has proved to be a whole different beast. My degree program is not difficult. I do readings everyday, I post discussion questions, I go to class, I write a few papers, and I go home. But I have had more panic attacks and days where I am unexplainably unhappy than I ever expected to as an adult. I recently started a new job where I am the Editor-in-Chief of the independent student newspaper and a teacher’s assistant 4 of the 5 days that the campus is open. It doesn’t sound hard-- in reality it isn’t hard at all. But top the school-work and work-work that I have to do with an anxiety disorder and you have the most unproductive concoction imaginable. And for a perfectionist, that’s exactly what you want to avoid like the plague. But here I am. I am living with that concoction. My fiancée has grown to know what the onset of a panic attack looks like. I hate that it’s something he had to be able to identify by the look on my face, but it is immensely helpful. I used to think it was selfish for girls to call their boyfriends home from work because of personal issues until I had to do it myself less than a week ago. I woke up feeling paranoid, but thought that I could make myself busy and keep my head from going too dark. The moment I got out of class and had the afternoon to myself, I felt the tension in my chest. I was using my breathing techniques I had learned from therapy years before, and felt that I was really panicking, so I texted River and told him I needed for him to come to me when he got out of class. When he got to me, he immediately hugged me as I tried to keep myself together. Ladies, get you a man like River. The day got worse after that, as I was still dealing with a lot of anxiety that ended in a severe panic attack. But I consistently had to remind myself that fear is not reality and that panic is not a constant. Since that day, I have been considering going back to therapy for anxiety and depression. It is healthy to have an outlet like a therapist to help sift through the crap that you think. It’s a hard decision for me to make. It is easy to say that we need to raise awareness of mental illness, but it’s not easy to raise awareness of a problem to those we love because we don’t want them to worry or think that we are “crazy.” So to people with family members who have mental illness, take the time to understand that saying that they are having a hard time is not as easy as it sounds. It’s not as cut-and-dry as a lot of people make it out to be. Asking for help, whether professional or personal, is a hard thing to do. I’m writing this as sort of a way to bridge the gap for those who think that when teens get out of high school and believe that these problems just go away-- sometimes, they don’t. There are places on college campuses that sometimes offer free counseling, and if you identify with these struggles, do not hesitate to seek help. Whether that be a professional, a family member, a friend, or a cynic, there is always someone who can help. You don’t have to endure anxiety. There are techniques and resources that are available to you, even if you aren’t in college. To those who live with anxiety, understand that it’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to be anxious. And it is okay to ask for help. - A cynic I am a proud supporter of the First Amendment in all capacities-- assembly, speech, press, religion, and petition. I am NOT a supporter of racism, homophobia, bigotry, xenophobia, or hate speech. In Charlottesville, Virginia this weekend, we saw an outstanding display of freedom of speech and assembly, and then saw that go up in flames that were lit by dollar store tiki torches.
I think that everyone has a right to have a voice no matter your race, creed, gender, orientation, or religious beliefs. And I don’t mean the usual “You have the freedom of speech until you hurt my feelings and say something I disagree with” bullcrap we see today. What I mean when I say we have the freedom of speech is that even if I disagree with you, you still have the right to say what you wish to. My disagreement with you and what you have to say does not take away your right to say it. BUT. I do have a problem when what you say starts riots, causes harm (not just hurt feelings but physical harm) and concern for the safety of those around you. The protesters in Charlottesville had a right to peaceably assemble. I do wish that since the protest was going to continue as planned, the governing bodies would have been more careful and set forth clear guidelines as to what was considered peaceful. But as soon as the white supremacists wielded torches, walked in with their KKK-style garb, and started walking with a Nazi salute, that is where the First Amendment did not matter. Those symbols are full of hate, and the people holding and wearing those symbols did not care about how they were impacting the lives of those around them. Their goal was to strike fear into the lives of others. Which, if I am remembering correctly, is terrorism. From what I gathered, which may be wrong, but still, the protest was about a memorial Confederacy statue. And if that was truly what the protest and demonstration was for, then that’s fine. But now that is not the issue. That is not what that protest was about. It was an opportunity for hateful people to come together to strike fear in the hearts of African Americans and other minorities and prove to them that they think they are inferior. Which is why the statue was to be taken down. The statues are said to be representative of a time when black people had no right to stand for themselves and I see that we haven’t moved away from that now. Racism is alive. You cannot deny that anymore. If you do not believe me, look in the streets of Charlottesville. That riot was the stitches opening back up on a wound many people chose to see as healed. We cannot ignore that now. I would have said, last week even, that if the KKK had a rally in my hometown, to ignore them. They are a small number of people whose thinking will hopefully die with them. But this riot gave racists the main stage. They have a voice now. They hit people with cars and we are supposed to ignore it? If we do that, we are giving them permission to do it again. If a child hits another kid on the playground and an adult sees it but chooses not to get on to them, the child now thinks that hitting is okay. DON’T LET KIDS THINK IT’S OKAY TO HIT OTHER KIDS. DON’T LET RACISTS THINK IT’S OKAY TO BE RACIST. I am a supporter of the First Amendment until it becomes dangerous. I am a supporter of love and compassion for all beings. I am a supporter of African Americans and minorities. And I will never let hate have a home here. I am what some would call “big boned,” “plus-size,” or more commonly, “fat.” And I am. I have a full figure. I have a gazillion stretch marks and a lot of awkward rolls, and I don’t fit into 85% of the clothes sold at the mall because I am too big. Hell, my doctor even says that I need to “lose weight and try to get my dieting together” and “start working out three to four times a week.” And I definitely agree. I would love to be a size 6, or even a size 10. But I have not attained that goal yet. And THAT IS OKAY. I have seen a lot of posts made by fashion sites and ads for products lately that will “shave off that extra layer of body fat and make your life sooooo much better!” I have read the comments sections on those posts and advertisements where people claim that you have to eat 10 calories a day and you will lose weight and that’s all you have to do. These people believe that the body positivity movement is the grossest and most sickening thing in the world. I just want to tell those people that think they know it all that they don’t. People hate the body positivity movement and they think that is encourages people to sit on their couches and eat a million bags of potato chips and whatnot. But it doesn’t. They call people like me (who are obese) lazy and suicidal because they don’t think we take care of ourselves and we want to die rolling around like those characters from Wall-E. NEWSFLASH: obese people who are body-positive don’t want to become Violet Beauregarde, and in fact, it is through the body positivity movement that we take care of ourselves. Here’s what I mean. I have a thyroid disorder that causes me to have a slow metabolism. I eat moderately healthy foods and balanced meals, and I have still gained weight. I have done 10 weeks of training for, and ran, an entire 5K and I have still gained weight. I have changed my diet completely-- cutting portions, counting calories, and even skipping meals, and I have still gained weight. This has been my life for the last 9 years. Have I been “fat” my entire life? YES. Have I tried to change that? YES. Has it worked yet? NO. When I was a freshman in high school, I ate one meal a day. I would make a lunch, take it to school, and give it to a friend of mine. Then I would come home and eat a huge dinner. I said that I wasn’t hungry, and often times, I wasn’t because I had gotten used to not eating. Looking back on it now, I see that I had a very unhealthy relationship with food, and now, as a sophomore in college, I am still trying to redirect my mentality towards eating. But I found the body positivity movement and I realized that it was okay to be big-- that just because I didn’t look like a beanpole did not mean that I was ugly or unlovable. I want you to think about this: is it better to be fat, appreciate your body, and get to a place where you are comfortable with making changes, or is it better to starve yourself and be thin because nothing else worked and you're sick of being big? Because personally, I believe that the body positivity movement encourages those who are struggling with an eating disorder or bad relationships with food to start loving and accepting themselves. I don’t know if it has worked for tons of people, but it did work for me. The movement isn’t a push for women to climb out of their waist trainers and unbutton their jeans like it’s Thanksgiving every night at the dinner table. It is making a foundation of love and self-acceptance so you can get to a place where you are willing and motivated to be more kind to your body and start losing weight. I love my body and all of its awkwardness and do I wish I was thinner? Yes. But I am no longer starving myself or avoiding mirrors because I have more meat on my bones than what society tells me I should. Being fat is hard. For me, being fat meant that I could only date tall, burly guys and that I shouldn’t get seconds at a restaurant because I’m already too big. The body positivity movement encouraged me to be comfortable walking into a store and trying on a pair of jeans that I like without fearing that I would have a panic attack in the dressing room. Long story short, people have to start somewhere. Whether that be regarding weight, mental health, a video game, a book, or just getting up in the morning. If you don’t understand what it’s like to have to make a decision to start working towards a goal and then making that happen or learning how to achieve it, you can’t appreciate the progress that's been made. I wouldn’t appreciate the fact that I ran, and I don’t mean walk, a 5K if I just got up and did it. I started by running for 30 seconds with 1 minute breaks and struggled, and when I hit that finish line on May 9, 2015, I cried with my mom because I made improvement. So please, before you comment on one of those “Plus-Size Women Try to Style Bralettes For A Week” or whatever videos from Buzzfeed and complain about how big people shouldn’t wear *insert item of clothing here*, ask yourself if it is terrible for someone to feel good and if it is a bad thing to encourage people to start loving themselves so they can start making changes later on. You don’t know how far someone may have already come, so don’t insult them or talk down to them because they don’t look the way you think they should. And to the people who are unhappy with their appearance, it is okay to be a work in progress. No matter where you begin or what you want to work towards, as long as it comes from a place of self-love and not because some guy on Twitter said you were too big. The Cynic |
AuthorGabrielle Willingham is a young Arkansan woman who sees the importance of simultaneous cynicism and optimism. Gabrielle is currently working on a MA in Communication with a focus in gender studies and political science. Archives
January 2021
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