On Saturday morning, I received an email from a person I didn’t know with a subject line that captured my attention: “Donation.” The sender said he wanted to donate $10,000 to Bicycle Colorado, but didn’t elaborate much more than that. A few minutes later, I received a text from a teammate. The text had a screenshot of a statement made by the prospective donor on social media; he was apologizing for and criticizing a Facebook post published on a platform his company manages.

And then I received a copy of the post. It featured four pictures, three of insects and one of bicyclists, with this caption: “Who else is ready for Fall when these pests go back to hell where they belong?”

The post sparked a public discussion that reflected the seemingly divided and sometimes callous times in which we live. Some people thought it funny and said that others needed to grow thicker skin. Some thought it tone-deaf but not that bad; I can see these people cringing as they say to themselves, it could be worse. And then some people were angry—very angry. For the record, my team and I fall into the latter camp. (Note that I had a good conversation with the CEO where we explored ways to work together to change the public narrative.) 

Here is why the post had the levity of a lead balloon for a lot of people: 

First, no one ever feels good about being compared to bugs and being wished to eternal damnation. 

Second, even if this was an attempt to be funny, for the group targeted—people biking—this micro-aggression hit too close to home, reminding them of real-world scenarios they’ve been involved in that are both dangerous and traumatizing. If you ride long enough, there is a good chance that you will be verbally abused by a driver who doesn’t want you on the road, even if you’re following the law. Worse yet, there is a good chance that at some point while riding your bike, your life will flash before your eyes when a driver, wanting to make clear that you’re not wanted or welcome, hits the accelerator and speeds by with only inches separating you from their front bumper. These experiences leave you shaking and breathless. They also leave you less tolerant of stupid posts comparing you to insects. 

Third, there were readers of this post whose lives have been permanently altered after being hit by a driver while riding their bikes. Some of these people are now paralyzed.

Finally, some readers of this post have lost loved ones who were hit and killed while riding their bikes. Since July, seven people have been killed in the front range by drivers. One victim was a longtime Bicycle Colorado volunteer. My team and I have spent a portion of our summer attending and speaking at memorials for these fallen bicyclists and consoling families and friends. As I write this, I can’t get out of my mind a conversation that two teammates and I are scheduled to have this Friday with a mother who lost her 38-year-old daughter who was hit and killed in July by a careless driver.

It’s been a tough summer. This post felt like a punch in the gut for my team and me, and I bet it felt the same for people who have been touched by tragedy on the road.

As offensive as this post was, it was also a gift in that it provides us all a few important reminders.

When you find yourself frustrated with a bicyclist, remember that most are nice people who are moms, dads, siblings, sons and daughters. It’s also a good time to remember that you probably know and enjoy the company of a person or two who rides a bike. To bolster my point, check out the #itcouldbeme campaign on social media, started by someone who was involved in a serious crash with a driver a little over a year ago.

We need to stop judging books by their covers. We need to stop labeling people. We need to stop the toxicity in our daily dialogue. Moving forward, let’s all try harder to put ourselves in the shoes of others. Let’s all try harder to be a little kinder to one another, even when—no, especially when—we’re angry.

The next time you’re driving or riding a bike and you feel your blood pressure rising, hit the pause button, take a deep breath and instead of “flipping the bird” flash a smile and peace sign. You’ll be better off for it, and the world will be too.

Let’s keep each other safe out there.

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