A recent conversation with a friend online has me pondering perception and how each of us brings a unique paradigm to our encounters with one another.
A couple of weeks ago, she remarked that Wordle was no longer fun since it had been bought by The New York Times. For the uninitiated on the latest word game obsession, Wordle is an online game originally offered by James Wardle and purchased by The New York Times in early February. Users have only one chance a day to play the game and use strategy to guess the five-letter word in six tries or fewer.
I was new to the game when it was purchased and had only played a few times before the change. To be clear, I am a big fan of Wordle, and our family compares notes daily. I was curious about what she was seeing and how it had changed. So, I asked her: “They are using the same word list but following the typical NYT puzzle pattern of making it harder as the week goes on. Also (this is just my opinion) it feels like they are selecting words intentionally that reflect the theme of the day’s headline. “Chant” on the day of the biggest Russian protests. “Choke” when the invasion stalled. I just think they are trying to be cute about the whole thing. Just let it be a simple game.”
I remembered that particular puzzle. I even happened to have a screenshot of my solution to share with her. I was tickled because it was a Sunday, and my puzzle looked so very appropriate for the day. First, I guessed ADORE. It’s a favorite go-to first word, three vowels, an “e” at the end, and a couple common consonants. After that, I guessed THANKS. Another favorite of mine. From there, looking at what I had right, what I’d used that wasn’t in the word, and what the placement of letters was, I made an easy leap to the word of the day, CHANT. And I looked at my puzzle and thought to myself what a lovely Sunday puzzle: adore, thanks, chant.
My friend doesn’t come from a Sunday worship tradition. She doesn’t quickly associate the word “chant” with Gregorian. Instead, she pictured angry protestors. When I shared, she instantly saw why my perception of that Sunday’s puzzle was entirely different from hers. We had a gracious moment of mutual understanding, and she laughed and commented that ADORE was a good word with which to begin as well as being a nice intention.
It’s not a matter of right or wrong perspective. Both of us could see how our mindset at the moment colored the way we played the game.
Now, picture how our mindsets color every other interaction we have online. And how we bring what is inside our heads to every conversation we share.
A couple of weeks later, we had another quick encounter online. She posted a political picture and caption with which I very much disagreed. I usually ignore politics altogether online because I just don’t have the margin to engage in those conversations. But on this day, I was beyond tired and extremely discouraged about a serious personal matter. I responded impulsively (as one does when she is so tired that she should not be online). She shot back with what seemed like an insensitive, biting retort. Then, I remembered the Wordle discussion. I recognized that she had no idea the pain and fatigue that figured into how I perceived her photo. So, I shared just a little of my story. She responded graciously with surprise and sensitivity. And that was that.
If we can bring ourselves to conversations with other people — especially people who hold different beliefs and values — and believe the best and seek mutual understanding and compassion, we can change the world. Instagram, Wordle and my friend make me believe that is true.
This young woman is from a different faith tradition, a different family dynamic and a different generation, but she frequently teaches me things for which I am always grateful. Who are the teachers in the unexpected places in your life?
Foss, whose website is takeupandread.org, writes from Connecticut.
