Offending colleagues is never a smart thing to do – particularly when you’re the only male in the English department. But what I said wasn’t meant as a slur. Let me explain…
The departmental meeting was drawing to a close and the minor items on the AOB were getting a hearing: the last of which was the Christmas night out. Everyone that knows me will realise that this is a topic I have no interest in. I never go out with my work colleagues – don’t like to talk shop after hours and would rather spend time with family and friends.
That’s all I said – ‘I’m not coming. I don’t go out very often and when I do go out, I like to go with my friends.’
Well, you would have thought I’d dangled a kid out of the window by his ankle from the looks that were shot my way. But the key word here was ‘friend’. That’s what got their goat. Not the fact I wasn’t going out with them – they expected that anyway. But that I didn’t consider them ‘friends’ was my most heinous crime.
It’s a common theme for me I’m afraid. I get a similar kind of silence in the classroom when I explain to my students that I’m not their ‘mate’. Just because I’m an amenable and agreeable chap everyone thinks I’m their best buddy.
I think ‘Facebook’ is to blame here. And it’s a crucial point that goes a long way to explaining the dangers facing our kids when they go on the internet.
To be a ‘Facebook Friend’ is very different to being an actual ‘friend’ and my experience in the staff room shows this is a distinction adults struggle with, let alone children.
Being my ‘friend’ would mean that I confided personal information to you; that you attended a meal either in or out with my family, or were invited to a family birthday; you may have known me for a couple of decades and shared a lot of a similar life experiences; you would almost definitely be a football fan and more than likely support The Rams (as a good 80% of my conversation topics revolve around this subject).
If you don’t fulfil any of these criteria, but still are aware of my existence then you could well be a colleague, or an acquaintance – you may well be a friend-in-waiting. But you won’t be my ‘friend’. I’m sorry. You’re just not.
Please don’t take this the wrong way. It doesn’t mean I dislike you. I just want to reclaim the word that Facebook has stolen from me. So, if you’re after a definition, how about this one:
“Just call out my name, and you know wherever I am, I’ll come running to see you again. Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you’ve got to do is call, and I’ll be there, yeah, yeah, you’ve got a friend.”
So, as James Taylor says, if I call your name, would you drop everything and come round?
Nah, thought not. You’re not my friend – just someone I know.
The departmental meeting was drawing to a close and the minor items on the AOB were getting a hearing: the last of which was the Christmas night out. Everyone that knows me will realise that this is a topic I have no interest in. I never go out with my work colleagues – don’t like to talk shop after hours and would rather spend time with family and friends.
That’s all I said – ‘I’m not coming. I don’t go out very often and when I do go out, I like to go with my friends.’
Well, you would have thought I’d dangled a kid out of the window by his ankle from the looks that were shot my way. But the key word here was ‘friend’. That’s what got their goat. Not the fact I wasn’t going out with them – they expected that anyway. But that I didn’t consider them ‘friends’ was my most heinous crime.
It’s a common theme for me I’m afraid. I get a similar kind of silence in the classroom when I explain to my students that I’m not their ‘mate’. Just because I’m an amenable and agreeable chap everyone thinks I’m their best buddy.
I think ‘Facebook’ is to blame here. And it’s a crucial point that goes a long way to explaining the dangers facing our kids when they go on the internet.
To be a ‘Facebook Friend’ is very different to being an actual ‘friend’ and my experience in the staff room shows this is a distinction adults struggle with, let alone children.
Being my ‘friend’ would mean that I confided personal information to you; that you attended a meal either in or out with my family, or were invited to a family birthday; you may have known me for a couple of decades and shared a lot of a similar life experiences; you would almost definitely be a football fan and more than likely support The Rams (as a good 80% of my conversation topics revolve around this subject).
If you don’t fulfil any of these criteria, but still are aware of my existence then you could well be a colleague, or an acquaintance – you may well be a friend-in-waiting. But you won’t be my ‘friend’. I’m sorry. You’re just not.
Please don’t take this the wrong way. It doesn’t mean I dislike you. I just want to reclaim the word that Facebook has stolen from me. So, if you’re after a definition, how about this one:
“Just call out my name, and you know wherever I am, I’ll come running to see you again. Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you’ve got to do is call, and I’ll be there, yeah, yeah, you’ve got a friend.”
So, as James Taylor says, if I call your name, would you drop everything and come round?
Nah, thought not. You’re not my friend – just someone I know.