Rachel Kiser
Blogger | Mom of Two

This past week our country was rattled by the paralyzing story of a two-year-old boy who was snatched out of shallow water by an alligator while on vacation with his family in Disney.

When I first saw the headline, my stomach turned into a giant knot. My own family and I were in the middle of an eight hour drive home (from a vacation, too, I might add, just like the Graves’ had been on), and the unshakable images of the terror that little boy and family faced were screaming at me. What desperation. What pain. What intense sorrow. I can barely even begin to comprehend it. My throat constricts. It takes my breath away.

If it’s one thing I’ve learned in my time on social media and in reading articles that are frequently shared on these platforms, it’s this: Don’t read the comments section. Back away. When you’re done reading your post, close the browser. Sometimes my curiosity gets the better of me, and like a deer in headlights, a moth to the flame, I find myself both horrified and drawn in until I sink into a pit of despair over the callousness of the human race. Such ugliness.

What’s worse, though, in this instance, is that many of the stones thrown came from my own social media news feed, as well.

I’m sorry for the little boy, but not his negligent parents.

They should have been watching him!

What was a two-year-old doing out at 9:30 at night?

I would never have let my children near that water in the first place!

People of all walks of life, parents or not, have taken it upon themselves to hash out what happened, didn’t happen, and should have happened. Compassion is placed on the back burner while everyone decides which camp they belong to: the one whose arms ache to hold the parents, or the one whose arms are hurling stones.

Social media is a double-edged sword. For better or worse, we are all given a platform, and are able to voice our thoughts and opinions on anything at all (says the woman writing a blog post, I know). With this freedom also comes a safety in numbers mentality. It’s all too easy to cower behind your computer or phone screen when you know you’re not accountable to anyone; when you don’t have to be confronted with the reality of someone else’s pain. We fail to see that there are actual people, made of flesh and blood, suffering: people who will hurt every moment of every day for the rest of their lives. And somehow people equivocate casting stones with their appropriate part in this narrative.

Why?

I tend to think that outsiders blame parents because, when they admit that it’s an actual accident, they are admitting that they and their loved ones are not immune to the very same circumstances. It’s acknowledging that there are things that are out of their control; that even the most caring parent can’t completely shield and protect their child. In the harsh reality of life, terrible things happen to the most vulnerable and innocent ones, and we are all just trying to do our best to prevent it.

The hatred and blame that these bereaved parents have been the target of is appalling, to say the least. It stirs up so many feelings deep inside of me; probably because I have no pretenses: I know Lane’s mother (lots of them, actually). I am Lane’s mother. It scares me how acquainted I am with the fact that this could easily be my story. And if you’re a parent, I don’t even have to know you personally to say I believe it could just as easily be yours, too.

The devastating reality is this: the Graves family went home to Nebraska to a house that is riddled with their son, Lane’s, fingerprints. Smudges on windows, wrinkled bed sheets that will never again be slept in. Dirty laundry in hampers, and messy toothpaste tubes squeezed from the middle.

In the wake of such an unprecedented tragedy, our first move should not be choosing sides and assessing every angle of the situation, but rather displaying raw human compassion, and letting that play out as it does. An example of this, which my family and I will be doing, is sending a letter of encouragement and sympathy to the Graves family. Let’s be people who cultivate communities of love and support. It’s what we, and our world, so desperately need.

About Rachel Kiser

Rachel is a wife and mother living in Raleigh, North Carolina. She’s a fan of good coffee, wearer of gray t-shirts, and is constantly starting books she will never finish. Her family is her joy, and she loves to engage with other moms and dads on matters of parenting. Her blog posts have also been featured on the Today Show Parenting Blog and Scary Mommy.

View all posts by Rachel Kiser here.
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