Lost

Qanon Stole My Friend

When I write, I usually manage a measure of detachment, but not this time.

Kay, a former student whose name I have changed, who I taught first in 7th grade and then again in 12th, someone I have stayed connected to and considered a friend, has gotten enmeshed in Qanon.

Kay’s love of Shakespeare and her dedication to reading and writing made me feel as if I’d found a kindred nerd spirit. When quarantine began last March, her college classes went online and somewhere in those weeks alone Kay went from being bummed that we’d had to cancel our plan to go to a taping of one of her heroes, Trevor Noah, to diving down the bizarre toxic rabbit hole that is the conspiracy theory Qanon.

During quarantine, Kay and I checked in remotely, over Google Hangouts, and she seemed to be okay. Then, when I saw her in person in the summer, right after George Floyd was murdered, she said, “I bet you assume I’m all about Black Lives Matter. But guess who joined the Trump Train?

“You’re kidding,” I said, because she had to be, right? But she wasn’t.

At first, the shock muted me, and I let her talk. I listened to what she was saying. I found it disturbing but figured- hoped- it would blow over. As time went on, I tried steering her to other topics, but couldn’t ignore the Qanon “Where We Go One, We Go All” acronym on her cell phone case. I saw her in November, after Biden’s victory (she’d told me with confidence that Trump would win by a landslide) she was still certain that Trump would, in the end, prevail. The evidence of fraud was sweeping and undeniable, the courts would rule, and the election would be overturned. But it wasn’t, they didn’t, and January 6th happened.

She met me yesterday for a walk without a mask. I kept my distance. Twitter had deleted her account. They had, she claimed, followed her to Parler, to OAN, and they knew her history. She was annoyed. I reminded her of the historic mayhem at the Capitol. Actors, she told me. The whole thing was staged, and Antifa had infiltrated. NPR was broadcasting the takeover before the takeover. It was planned. I was listening to NPR all day, and they didn’t report the breach until it was happening, I told her. Not on the radio, on line, she responded. News doesn’t work that way, I told her.

“We can agree to disagree,” she said.

“No, we can’t,” I told her. “I don’t agree with any of this. And you won’t wear a mask, even to protect me?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t have the virus, and why would I betray my principles to wear a mask?”

That was it. I turned around and walked her to her door. I was on the edge of tears, and she was cool as a cucumber. The last thing I said to her was if she were a devout Christian or conservative Republican our worldviews might not exactly align, but our friendship would continue. What Qanon represents is antithetical to me, to reality. I hope she makes it out of this, I really do, but I have no idea how that happens.

I am furious at this elaborate, bewildering, dangerous deception has ensnared millions of often vulnerable people, convincing them that Trump is the savior and The Storm is coming.

In the end, I watched my friend get lost, and now, I’ve had to lose my friend.