I have a good friend with all sorts of creative ideas and a face with great character, and I asked him, as I often do, if I could take a portrait of him, he is a man I admire and have come to love.
He is very different from me; he is puzzled and sometimes horrified by how I share my life and write about my vulnerability and mental health.
I know him to be a hider; he hides his feelings and fears and lives a mostly hidden emotional life. Sharing his feelings openly is not something he has ever done.
We spent some time together the other night, and he took me aside as he was leaving and asked if we could talk. I could tell something was bothering him. He had a favor, he said, looking nervous.
He didn’t like to be mentioned on my blog; he was afraid if I took his photo, people would recognize him and want to talk with him. He doesn’t care for people to know about his life and is frightened of somehow upsetting someone in his family. I hear this often.
The idea rattled him.
Maria has often told me that I made people uncomfortable because they fear being written about on my blog. Some found my directness and curiosity – I like knowing everyone’s story – unnerving. I’m always asking questions.
I’m trying to figure this out.
I’m moderately interested, good company, and like to talk with people. I am no hermit.
I have many good stories to tell about my life then and now. It’s been suggested to me more than once that this is a problem – the stink of low-level celebrities makes people nervous, especially when a movie is made about their lives.
I have learned that people sometimes have the idea I will reveal their secrets (I don’t ever) or that they will say something that will upset a friend or family.
I never take a picture of anyone without their permission (it’s fine with me if people say no), and I never quote anyone saying anything that might offend someone in their lives. My blog is not about that; I am not about that.
One woman told me at the post office that her dog had diarrhea last week. “Please don’t put that on your blog,” she said urgently. “His breeder might be upset…” I was uncharacteristically speechless. Why on earth would I post that on my blog?
And it isn’t that I have no friends. I just have a few friends and good ones. But I have to acknowledge that it is now clear that I make people uncomfortable. Even Maria agrees.
One of my best friends is Sue Silverstein, the art and theology teacher at Bishop Gibbons High School. She, like me, is direct, drawn to doing good, allergic to drama and hysteria, and fiercely loyal. I have one man I would call a friend and two or three women.
I had and have a good Amish Friend, Moise, but there were almost impossible boundaries to that relationship. The Amish think photography is evil, and they dread being written about. That’s a high friendship bar for a writer and photographer. Moise and I are still friends but we understand the boundaries and back off.
As a photographer and a writer, I must be myself for any friendship.
When I decided to be open about my life and my many flaws and fears, I knew it would make people nervous – especially men. Most of the men I know are traumatized by that idea. They sometimes react to me as if I was spitting Covid germs around.
My worries were founded in reality.
The usual pattern is this. For a while, I hoped to make some male friends I could talk to.
I would invite someone to lunch, or they will ask me. We would have a great conversation, I believe. And I will never hear from them again. They don’t call me, and I don’t call them. I never write about these meetings.
That’s happened so many times that I have seen it as straightforward and revealing about me and how people react to me. I rarely go to lunch anymore at all. Maria has a half dozen great friends she sees and always lunches with often.
This has sometimes been a painful thing in my life. I never really had many friends at any age. But it’s not painful any longer.
I’m at a stage in life where I’ve learned to be free and accept myself. People can take me or leave me. A lot of people leave when they get close. I’ve made many good friends online, I should say. I value them highly.
The irony is that my life is whole and sound, and I’ve discovered that I don’t want or need a lot of friends, not in the conventional sense.
Most men are closed up and wary of openness or real connections; talking to them is complex and frustrating, and so many spouses can testify. Despite the ongoing feminist revolution, most – almost all – of the interesting women I know are fearful and mistrustful of men and are much safer being friendly with women.
Men have earned their distrust.
I don’t know about New York City, but out where I live, you don’t see many women having lunch with men or having close friendships.
My sense of being alone or different has liberated me as a writer. I wouldn’t give it up.
The more people you know, the more possible it is to upset or unconsciously frighten or offend them, and the more people want to tell you what to do or how to be. I have no one to worry about when I write something but myself.
That is very liberating, something I have always wanted as a writer, even on social media, where so many people are watching. When I was writing books, the editors and marketers were always terrified of upsetting someone. I am free.
I was a determined reporter, and I loved the work. I never really cared if people wanted to tell me the truth or talk to me – most of the time, people didn’t – but I did always get the story, and I’m sure some of those genes still live in my bones. I’m not easily deterred; I imagine people think that is obnoxious.
I told my friend he was being honest with me, so I wanted to be honest with him (this is the part that makes people nervous). It was his choice to let me write about him or not or take his photo. I told him he was a close friend and a significant part of my life.
Those are the people I share. That’s what my blog is about.
When I started, I promised to be open, honest, and authentic about my life, and most of the time (not always) have kept that promise. I see it as one the best decisions I ever made, next to marrying Maria, and it helped me become an authentic person, for better or worse.
It also allowed the blog itself to grow way beyond my expectations.
I told my friend that the problem was that if I couldn’t write about someone or something important in my life, I had broken my promise and failed to be honest in my blog, which is a living memoir to me, my greatest book.
Memoirs obligate the writer, to be honest.
A woman wrote me recently and asked cheerfully and enthusiastically that she reads the blog daily and wants more: “When can I count on seeing your next book?” You are reading it; I said, every single day. It doesn’t have to be on paper to be a book.
I take this seriously; I’m not writing a typical blog where the author always looks great.
You get the good Jon Katz and the bad one.
I told my friend that being my friend is tricky; I know that.
The truth is I have a gift for making people nervous. Maria, who knows me better than anyone I know, says this is because I speak directly and say what is on my mind and have little use for small talk.
She also said she admired my directness, curiosity, and thoughtfulness.
I didn’t know until recently that most people don’t see this as a part of friendship and don’t like to do it. I can understand it.
I accept that. That is their absolute right. My fundamental right is to share my life and be open about it. That is what a good memoir is.
I won’t mention you on my blog; I told my friend; it is your decision, and I respect it, as I respected Moise’s beliefs. But I’m not sure I can be comfortable with you if I hide your existence or place in my life. That is my decision. I’m not sure you can be my friend either.
And I’m not inclined to stop being me. Sometimes there is no middle ground. I finally learned who I am, and I like who I am.
My blog is one of my best and most successful creative achievements; making some people uncomfortable is the price. It’s a fair tradeoff.
I don’t mind having a few friends. They are good ones. They are enough. They are not the least bit intimidated by me; they don’t tell me what to write or take a picture of.
And I do not mind having anything in my life to hide or deny.
That is the perfect part.
Being honest and direct with people is something I have worked long and hard on, a work in progress……. it is often not easy because one must be prepared to be rejected (in many ways)……but I believe speaking ones truth, and listening to others truths….is a gift and helps us grow….however it plays out. Great post, Jon
Susan M
I wish to thank you for your openness in your blog. It has helped me become more open and accepting when living my own life. I had thought that I was doing pretty good in these personal traits, but you soon showed me that I needed to expand and improve my life. If nothing else, you have made a significant and important difference in my life, improving the quality of my life within my community. Thank you.
Thank you
I really don’t comprehend why people want friends who are not willing to be authentic. The friends I am closest to and trust the most, are usually quite blunt, and speak their minds. I’ve been blessed to have both male and female friends. There are not a lot of them, but the honest ones are keepers. As for the rest, as my husband used to say, “screw them if they can’t take a joke” .
I admire your honesty and really enjoy your living memoir.
It’s good that you are happy with how things are in your life regarding friendships. We should all be who we are. 🙂
I have a long time friend who appears to be similar to you in her directness and openness. It is OK with me when she speaks about herself, but not OK when she speaks about me. Her interpretation of my actions are her own, not mine, Sometimes it even turns out that other people have an incorrect, even hurtful, opinion of me based on something she said. We are still friends, but I do censor what I share with her because of this. So I am less able to be fully myself in her presence.
So I understand your friend’s’ point of view. It is maybe a clash of authenticities, like: who gets to speak for me?
I know you understand this also, putting yourself out there and then having to tolerate the untruths people say about you. Maybe the difference is that you have a thicker skin than many of us. 🙂
(As always, your writing makes me think about my own things, and I appreciate that. )
I’m sorry, sincerely that you have had bad experiences online. I have them almost daily. I will not permit them to silence me or force me to hide. We all have to make our own decisions.
“I will not stay, not ever again – in a room or conversation or relationship or institution that requires me to abandon myself.” ― Glennon Doyle, Untamed
Jon, this quote says it all. My thing isn’t being liked, not any more. My thing is being authentic. I do not wish to hurt others nor speak badly about them. However, I will not abandon my true self, ever again. My counselor says, “for me, not against you,” and taught me that I am not responsible for how someone responds to my need to be authentic. You have shown me through your words and life that authenticity is like the air we breathe – we need it to live a full life.
I love your message and your counselor
I’m not sure I can name one person to whom I feel more comfortable talking to or sharing with than you. Your friendship is a gift I will always cherish. Your story and your writing were my permission slip to be me. I have always admired your bravery to be authentic even when it gives others pause. There are sports heroes, war heroes, and film heroes, most importantly there are those personal heroes who change lives and never realize the impact they’ve had on someone. That said, it’s my turn to buy lunch.
I’ll happily accept your kind offer, sir I think I owe you the lunch.
And I can say I cannot name one other human being I would have asked to come and meet at home after my surgery and help lift me out of the car and into the house…lunch anytime, friend.
I have always had more friendships with men than with other women. At this point in my life, I have no interest in having a friendship with anyone who is not willing to be open and
honest about themselves, or cannot accept me as I am.
Nice
I agree that honesty and authenticity are essential in any friendship. Having said that, why in the world would I be friends with someone who feels it is their right to publically share anything about me or post photos as a condition of our friendship. It is not their right, and I would expect a real friend to honor and respect this unconditionally as I would for them. This is especially true if it violates not only my privacy but my culture or religious values. This is true friendship.
Cindy, I might be misreading it, but this feels like a manifesto or lecture aimed at me without directly saying so. Whoever it is aimed at, it seems a bit righteous and rigid to me. I would never demand the right to write about anyone or photograph them without their knowledge and blessing, and I am happy to say I have never done that, not since I was a reporter.
I have never set any condition other than honesty in any friendship, I have never posted photos or words as a requirement or requirement of anything. Most of my friends have never been mentioned, seen, or referred to on my blog; you have never heard their names; those that have been do so willingly and knowingly, even happily. If you think this is a scolding I need, you know nothing about me. In fact, most of my friends live far away; there is little or no chance of them being known in any way, even if I did refer to them.
I have never harmed, hurt, or lost a friend because I wrote something about them. I have never written anything a friend didn’t want me to write or objected to. I sometimes make mistakes, and I correct them.
That seems so obvious that I didn’t think to say it. Being the friend of a public person is not simple, and I don’t live in the black-and-white world you do. The most complex friendship I had was with Moise, my Amish neighbor. Once I knew we couldn’t be comfortable for too long, I backed away. We are still friends, no conditions. I’m a writer and a photographer, my friends know and respect that.
I have had no discomfort or difficulty with any of my other friends, not about what I write on my blog. . They know me, and they know what I do. We work around it. I wish this was as simple for me as it is for you. But I think I’m in a good place for it. I can only do what I think is right, not what you think is right for me to do. Thanks for commenting in a civil way.
Jon thanks for clarifying. I live in NM and many of our traditional pueblos forbid photos and for good reason. They have historical trauma from the dominant culture persecuting and exploiting them. I am glad that you have been able to maintain a friendship with Moise. Thank you for responding.
Thanks for listening; I don’t tell other people what to do, Cindy, not in life, not in my blog, or my beliefs. My photography is a personal expression of my life and art, and the idea that I would take images of people against their will is repugnant to me on many levels. That isn’t art; it’s something creepy…Every photo I take has someone smiling.
I walked away from a valued friendship with my Amish friend because I believed my beliefs would soon conflict with his. Good man that he is, he never tried to tell me what to do, and I never tried to talk him into something he didn’t want to do or wasn’t comfortable with. Our friendship changed but continues.
My work aims to lift people up, not bully them or persecute them. My flower photos and portraits are not acts of dominance. I appreciate your openness and civility, precious things also in our time.
Cindy, I very much appreciate your message and the tone of it..stick around..the world needs you..
As someone who had their photo taken from a public posting ( I work for the county) and modified and used inappropriately, I can understand those who do not want their photo on a public site. I can speak openly and directly with someone and not have a concern that the conversation may go out for public review, with perhaps my words being changed, or misunderstood. I can understand those who do not want private discussions with a good friend posted for public reading. I consider it mutual respect for one another and does not impact my friendship with someone. It can also be a matter of safety. I realize you stated you don’t post without permission; however, you do discuss it and those closer to your area may know of whom you are speaking. Just from someone who went through a very bad experience with an innocent posting of a photo by others.
I’m afraid you have no idea what I do or don’t discuss with friends, Marianna. There are all kinds of reasons to be private and all kinds to be open. I am very open about what I do and respectful of the privacy I need, and all of us need. I am happy to say that my friends know who I am and not a single one has ever been harmed in any way by my writing about them, directly or indirectly. There is a lot of ugliness online, for sure, but there is also a lot of paranoia and panic.
Speaking only for me, I am not going there. Being open is one of the best decisions of my life, it was well worth any risk. But no one has been harmed by writing about them, online or off. I am truly sorry that this happened to you.
I was feeling sad about your experience when I read this:
“Childhood Trauma and Psychosis: An Updated Review
Kate J Stanton et al. Child Adolesc Psychiatr Clin N Am. 2020 Jan.
Abstract
There is growing evidence to support the link between childhood trauma and psychosis. Childhood trauma increases the risk for psychosis and affects severity and type of psychotic symptoms, and frequency of comorbid conditions, including depression and substance use. Childhood trauma is linked to more severe functional impairment in individuals with psychosis. There is evidence to support gender differences in the influence of childhood trauma on the course of psychotic illnesses, appearing to be more profound in girls and women. Other biological markers that may explain the link between childhood trauma and psychosis include brain-derived neurotrophic factor and other inflammatory markers.”
Then I thought how much this happens and even how our politics promote it, shaming children in Florida under Desantis, and elsewhere for ex.
It has to take a lot to escape the effects of trauma.