I’d like to take a Sunday dive into the nature of writing to fuel positive individual and social change. This may be especially relevant to readers who write about fostering psychologically healthier workplaces that are free from bullying, mobbing, and abuse.
The writing bug bit me a long time ago. Most tangibly, I can trace it back to being an editor and reporter for my college and law school newspapers. More recently, I’ve been blogging for over 10 years and writing academic articles and book chapters for over 25 years. In addition, over the decades, I’ve written dozens of other shorter pieces, op-ed columns, and newsletter articles.
Over this long span of time, I’ve tried to be responsible about what I put out there for public consumption, however modest that readership might be at times. I have debated and argued with editors about how certain information is characterized. For the briefest of pieces, I have sometimes spent hours tweaking sentences and paragraphs. When writing about legal matters, I have tried to exercise care in how I discuss ideas, concepts, and potential rights.
But I confess that only within the past few years have I started to regard writing for a public audience as a more sacred responsibility that requires close consideration of how my words will be received. That understanding has come about mainly via reader feedback to this blog, especially from those who have been experiencing workplace bullying or mobbing. On several occasions, I have received e-mails or comments from readers, saying that my writings helped to save their lives, mostly by giving them validating knowledge and understanding about the nature and effects of work abuse, and sometimes by giving them ideas for how to address their respective situations.
Of course, I do not assume that all readers pore over my words with close scrutiny. After all, for better or worse, especially during the digital age, we’ve become used to skimming more than reading. Furthermore, as I sometimes chide my professorial colleagues when we’re whining about students not paying sufficient attention to our golden insights, we shouldn’t expect them to await our every word with breathless anticipation.
Nevertheless, when someone shares with you that your writings have been validating and even life-saving, then it’s time to sit up straight and grasp the potential power of the written word. Those of us who are writing about work abuse need to comprehend that at least some of our readers may be experiencing terrible mistreatment at work and suffering greatly as a result. For me, this includes, among other things:
- Keeping in mind a readership of bullying/mobbing targets when I write about this topic;
- Avoiding any suggestion that work abuse situations lend themselves to easy, one-size-fits-all responses and solutions;
- Staying away from use of clickbait-type titles that promise more than the article delivers; and,
- Maintaining a Need Help? resource page on my blog (link here).
This doesn’t mean that I’m going to get it right every time. I’ve written over 1,700 pieces for this blog, and some of them have fallen well short of excellence — or even very good. Especially during my earlier years of blogging, some of my posts were unnecessarily punchy or facile in tone. Within the past few years, however, I feel like I’ve found my “blogging voice” in a way that presents my most authentic self.
We badly need writing that embraces authenticity, careful judgment and analysis, and the speaking of truth to power, at a time when the Powers That Be aren’t listening closely enough. Our quest is a long-term one, so words that endure are more valuable than those whose relevance disappears within a news cycle. In this spirit, I hope that fellow writers who are devoted to making the world a better place are also finding their best voices to enlighten us.
A quick P.S. about Twitter: I know lots of people who use Twitter very effectively. And some have graciously used Twitter to share posts from this blog. However, I’ve avoided opening a Twitter account. For me, writing in 280 character (or less) blocs, and paying attention to the same, is not my preferred form of engagement. Furthermore, it tempts a more biting side of my sense of humor that is best reserved for friends.
If you’re on Facebook, please “like” my new Page for this blog and the New Workplace Institute, where I’m regularly adding content and hosting conversations that don’t appear here. Go here to sign up.