The Meme-ification of Current Events
Like many others, I’ve been doomscrolling. And unfortunately, not for the first time. This week is one of many in the past three (four? five?) years that I’ve found myself glued to my phone, trying to ingest as much information as I possibly can to prevent myself from having a Real Thought™ and playing it off under the guise of Staying Informed.
But something about this week feels like a Big Deal. Obvious disclaimers that I am not a political scientist, nor do I claim to be an armchair expert in international relations or even history, despite a short-lived career as the captain of my high school History Bowl team. At the risk of navel-gazing, the Russian invasion of Ukraine has sent me spiraling in ways I hadn’t expected. Like almost 5% of Canada, my family is Ukrainian-Canadian. My grandfather spoke the language, but out of shame and a desire for conformity, he switched primarily to speaking english at home and never kept it up. My grandmother made an incredible effort to take traditions from his parents and pass them on through her own family, but nevertheless my mom has always said that she wishes her father had taught her and her siblings how to speak the language, and part of me thinks about being raised closer to that culture, about having the real words to describe the piecemeal traditions that trickled down to me, and having them feel comfortable on my tongue: pysanky eggs on Easter, pierogi and fried onion as a regular dinner staple.
Beyond these twice-removed traditions, I don’t have any real ties to the country. Not really. Not to the nation as it is, or was, and it doesn’t feel right to claim a connection to it. And maybe this is how diasporic communities feel, except I have the privilege of being generations removed, of being fully assimilated into Canada, and now America. Claiming anything close to its culture feels vain and self-absorbed.
But something about the social media spin on events didn’t quite sit right with me. Of course I’m aware of the tendency of social media to polarize, to flatten, to strip all reality of its nuance. And frankly, I’m incredibly inspired by these stories of Ukrainian resistance. I’ve done nothing today except watch footage of women standing in front of Russian soldiers telling them to put sunflower seeds in their pockets, so that when they die, flowers ill bloom, of President Zelensky’s speeches, and the Ghost of Kyiv emerging as an unconfirmed (and likely false) 21st century flying ace. Across Reddit, Twitter, and Instagram, I saw these moments shared, retweeted, and discussed. Each post was assailed by clapping emojis, flames, jokes about American politicians or quotes from other moments of Ukrainian resistance as if commenters were simply reciting lines from their favorite action movie. Don’t get me wrong. These moments are incredible displays of human courage and my heart is with everyone who is displaced by this conflict or who is still at home in Ukraine, battling a terrible attack on their democracy. I hope that these moments inspire the world to do whatever we can to put an end to this conflict. But between the near-commodification of Ukrainian bravery and nihilistic jokes about WW3 made from the comfort of another continent, part of me can’t help but feel like to the average American, the social media engagement with war flattens the idea of the conflict to a spectator sport, to something worthy of laughter or cheers or hype.
And maybe it’s always been like this. Maybe in reporting events too terrible to comprehend, this coverage of events half a world away always has to be like this. Cinematic. Dramatic. Inspiration porn. Heroes have to found, highlighted, lauded and lifted up above the noise, because large numbers beyond a certain size are too much for anyone to comprehend. Maybe like everything else, it’s an artifact of The Internet. Maybe this is our bystander way of coping, clinging to these moments as beacons in the dark against insurmountable odds. And these moments are truly inspiring. I hope that they are sources of light, inspiration, and hope for the Ukrainian people. I just hope that for Americans, the real cost of conflict and the repercussions of this aggression are not lost in the scroll.
Anyway, if you are like me and feeling helpless, here are some organizations you can donate to or support: