Goodbye, Firefly
After waking up to some general announcement emails today, I decided that it's time to unsubscribe and unfollow various sources of information about Firefly. I won't be attending again in the near future, possibly ever, and being reminded of that loss has become more depressing than useful.
I never thought that Firefly was a popularity contest, but it seems that I was wrong. It was made clear to me last year that if more than one person is upset about where I'm camping or even just sitting, and they complain loudly enough, the board will force me to move, under threat of ejection from the event. I've been told that simply talking, in any place where someone who doesn't like what I'm saying might overhear me, is unacceptable behavior. I don't think there is anywhere I can exist at the event that there won't be at least intermittently two people upset with my presence, so any time / effort / money I spend on attending is now under the specter of risk of losing out on most of the best parts of the experience I would hope to have. I'm not going to spend a thousand dollars and take a week off work just to camp alone and watch my friends revel from afar.
I am disappointed in the people who lied to our camp, and me directly, about how such situations would be handled between us, about their support for plans and policies that they did not actually support, and in describing my own actions and behavior. If they had simply honestly told me they wanted me gone, rather than subjecting us to a year of discussion and meetings and policymaking just to discard it all, it would have been a much cleaner break. I am disappointed in the Firefly board for succumbing to the battle of who can cope least. It is poor leadership to choose the path of least resistance to mollify whoever complains loudest. I am disappointed in my friends who decided that keeping silent and avoiding the drama was worth more to them than my continued presence. Fortunately this has helped me reprioritize and filter people I thought were my friends.
This is more painful to write than the end of any other relationship has been for me.
I never thought that Firefly was a popularity contest, but it seems that I was wrong. It was made clear to me last year that if more than one person is upset about where I'm camping or even just sitting, and they complain loudly enough, the board will force me to move, under threat of ejection from the event. I've been told that simply talking, in any place where someone who doesn't like what I'm saying might overhear me, is unacceptable behavior. I don't think there is anywhere I can exist at the event that there won't be at least intermittently two people upset with my presence, so any time / effort / money I spend on attending is now under the specter of risk of losing out on most of the best parts of the experience I would hope to have. I'm not going to spend a thousand dollars and take a week off work just to camp alone and watch my friends revel from afar.
I am disappointed in the people who lied to our camp, and me directly, about how such situations would be handled between us, about their support for plans and policies that they did not actually support, and in describing my own actions and behavior. If they had simply honestly told me they wanted me gone, rather than subjecting us to a year of discussion and meetings and policymaking just to discard it all, it would have been a much cleaner break. I am disappointed in the Firefly board for succumbing to the battle of who can cope least. It is poor leadership to choose the path of least resistance to mollify whoever complains loudest. I am disappointed in my friends who decided that keeping silent and avoiding the drama was worth more to them than my continued presence. Fortunately this has helped me reprioritize and filter people I thought were my friends.
This is more painful to write than the end of any other relationship has been for me.