Critical Thinking 101

The Rules of Politeness

In the fifth grade of elementary school, I gained a lot of weight and shot up several inches. Previously, I had been an adorable little girl, chubby but nowhere near obese, with long hair that fascinated my classmates at my 99.99% African American school. But then, my body started changing: I was officially fat.

The social awkwardness (that I now recognize as neurodivergence) that was tolerated suddenly became off-putting—repulsive even. I’d say whatever was on my mind to my classmates during a time when little girls were encouraged to be nice—at least in public. (In private, they could be vicious.) Instead of hanging with the other little girls with long hair—oh, you know it was a clique—I was abandoned. The little girls who had been my friends no longer to be bothered.

Then, it got worse: these little girls started bullying me mercilessly. Despite my size, I was a coward and could be pushed around pretty quickly. Whenever the girls who’d previously been my friends started on me, I’d keep my head down and remain silent.

One day, this little skinny, meriny-colored girl was picking on me. I can’t remember what she said, but I do remember her facial expression. Though I had at least thirty pounds on this chick, she twisted up her face in a sneer while she talked to me like I was a dog, poking her finger in my face.

But I was tired of being picked on. It seemed all the meanness I’d withstood came down on me, and I was done: I talked back to her.

That should have ended that interaction, but this girl wasn’t having my defiance, so she slapped me. And that’s when I whipped her ass like she stole something. Oh, I whaled on her with all my chubby strength.

Somebody pulled us apart. I was fine, but my rage was still riding. But now, the other girl had gotten the worst of it. Her nose was bleeding and that meriney skin of hers was showing all kinds of bruises and bumps.

You know who got in trouble with the teacher? Me.

That’s right. The teacher told me I was bigger than this girl and needed to know my strengths.

“But she hit me first,” I protested.

“That doesn’t matter,” My teacher said. “You should have come to me and reported it. Shame on you.”

I was a smart kid, but more than that, I had an advanced sense of logic. What this teacher told me didn’t make sense: I should be polite in the face of cruelty, and when someone struck me, I should learn how to get past it.

When the teacher went to the principal’s office and called my mama, I didn’t know what would happen. My household wasn’t always fair. You never knew what would happen if something jumped off—especially with my cruel daddy.

But that day, my mama gave that teacher a piece of her mind. She told the lady you don’t walk up to a giant, hit him with a stick, and then expect mercy. (Mama had a way with words.) Furthermore, she was bringing me back to school the next day, and she had better not hear that anybody punished me.

In the car, Mama exclaimed, “Good for you! I bet that little heifer won’t mess with you again!” She started laughing so hard I thought she would throw up.

I think about being bullied in my childhood a lot, in this week where the entire population of U.S. progressives seems shell-shocked over President Donald Trump’s avalanche of strange actions:

President Trump has appointed incompetent people, such as Pete Hesgeth, who others have described as an allegedly out-of-control alcoholic, sexual assaulter, and domestic abuser. Hesgeth is now Secretary of Defense.

President Trump fired eighteen inspectors general on the first weekend of his second term.

President Trump has directed ICE to begin deportation raids, mainly on Latinex and Hispanic communities.

A crony of President Trump, Elon Musk—the wealthiest man in the world—has performed what is identical to a Nazi salute. That is not only my opinion; That is the opinion of many Germans who suffered through Adolf Hitler’s regime. After Musk gave his salute, he appeared via teleprompter at a Neo-Nazi gathering.

President Trump has eliminated Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion programs, which has led to corporations such as Target, Walmart, and McDonald’s also eliminating their DEI programs.

President Trump has pardoned the January 6 rioters, who not only tried to stop the certification of votes in the 2020 presidential election but who violently breached the Capitol, viciously beat Capitol police officers, threatened to hang Vice-President Pence—and smeared human feces on the walls of one of our most sacred national buildings.

President Trump signed an executive order that eliminated birthright citizenship, which the Fourteenth Amendment established. This amendment made formerly enslaved African Americans citizens—if the U.S. Supreme Court overturns birthright citizenship, not only will the children of undocumented immigrants not have citizenship status, but quite possibly Black folks and Native Americans won’t, either.

All of this has occurred in only seven days.

We progressive citizens are mentally turning left and right, confused and terrified by this brutal assault not only on our country's laws but also on our collective national psyche—the rules about how our United States government works have been overturned in this short period. The parameters of how we knew our government to work—incrementally, civilly, and logically based on precedent—have been destroyed overnight.

In short, we are being bullied by our president, his entire administration, and the conservative lawmakers who have pledged fealty and obeisance to him. Will we remain polite in the face of this bullying? Will our lawmakers—Democrats, a couple Independents, and even a few Republicans—follow a rulebook that now has been lit on fire?

Even many African Americans—like me—who are typically so cynical about what is deemed “fair” in this country have been shocked and scared.

Even while writing this post, I wonder what will happen to me. Can I keep my job? Will I be safe? Will there be a war? Will there be famine? I don’t take anything for granted anymore.

Here I was, going about my business, teaching my classes, writing my books, working on my credit, living my quiet life, and preparing for retirement. I didn’t start this national mess, but I know one thing: I’m certainly not going to be polite in the face of this onslaught.

Welcome to my Substack.