Friendship is a playground. A playground is a place for fun. It is also a place for learning.

The playground is neither an empty field nor chaotic. It has rules, an orderliness, a timeline. There are parameters that shape the space into one where play happens.

Friendships exist on a spectrum, ranging from acquaintance to lifelong companion. Each stage has its own rules of play, its own guiding principles.

What are the conditions that allow us to move from one stage of friendship to another? From acquaintance to friend to close friend to best friend to lifelong friend to family?

No doubt, there are many. Let's focus on one: psychological safety.

On the playground, we make mistakes. We push, we trip, we cry. But if we are not safe to play, how can we enjoy each other and grow together?

In today’s age, particularly in urbanized, college-educated circles, there is a strong tendency to cancel each other. The slightest sign of cultural or moral misalignment is met with moralizing criticism. You can't say that. That's bigoted. You're so insensitive. It’s what the right criticizes as woke culture.

I am not here to defend bigotry or any unsavory behaviors. But I'll say this: making it completely unsafe to say certain things doesn't stop people from having those opinions or thoughts. It just forces them to hide them and seek echo chambers where they feel safe expressing them.

There is power in socially correcting one another—the feedback loop is a gift. However, outcasting each other at the slightest offense is a recipe for division. We need the social safety to make mistakes, to say dumb things. And we also need the individual disposition to take accountability, reflect, and improve upon ourselves when we do.

I recently had an encounter where a friend chewed me out over text for something I had stated off the cuff. No bigotry—just a comment that implied I would only visit friends if a paid engagement was involved. My friend said she "wanted to gag" and spelled out the implication of my statement. Ouch. Okay. Whoops. I hear that and understand. Since that's not the message I want to give off, I can be more careful with what I say next time.

All that said, the effect left me scratched. Perhaps overly sensitive, but I took away that I had to be careful with what I say in this person's presence. Our mutual understanding and trust—what we had built over time—apparently wasn't enough to offer padding, to provide the benefit of the doubt that how I came off wasn’t what I meant. It didn’t leave room for grace, for a softer correction or a playful retort.

My takeaway? The playground of that particular friendship was not safe. There was minimal room for error without injury. I know I say dumb things sometimes. I'd like my friends to give me grace when I do, rather than shame me publicly.

We'll all have different tolerances for interpersonal friction and different standards of safety, so I'm not here to prescribe a specific set of rules. But I’ll say this: the more grace we can extend when correcting our friends' missteps, the likelier a friendship can grow.

Here's my invitation: the next time you or a friend make a social misstep, speak up. But before you do, ask yourself: How can I say this in a way that resonates with my friend? How can I be clear about how I felt while offering grace?

You may find yourself experiencing friendship in a new way.