what 'rona, politicians, cowardly cops, & school shooters all have in common.

In this post: Last week, I wrote about school shooters and toxic masculinity and I think this topic deserves further examination from all of us. While Baldwin doesn’t use that term per se, I think he would have found it a useful shorthand for how he describes the “American boy” in his essay “Nothing Personal.”

Last week: This post is dedicated to the school shootings that I have zero faith will stop in this country.

Next week: Why we shouldn’t only blame men, and prayers to offend white women, the patriarchy, and to indoctrinate your very impressionable students.

I’m now using Substack, so fingers crossed y’all all get this email in your inbox, not spam folder (switching newsletter platforms is as tedious as grading 138 finals, ugh)

Hi folks,

Welp, it happened.I survived teaching in a run-down charter high school whose faculty bathrooms had no running water, a summer of loud protesters in close proximity, and nearly two years of rona before it finally caught up to me, in Chicago of all places.

I can now safely say that I’d rather have rona than the wretched traveler’s diarrhea I wrote about in my last post (see: “As I Lay Dying: School Shootings in (My) Time of Cholera”). My girlfriend and I both fell ill within three days of moving into our new apartment, both of us chalking it up to cleaning at least three years of calcified dust from the radiators.

But when she woke up and couldn’t taste her coffee, she knew what I refused to accept for a few more days before crawling to an urgent care for a test. There’s no way it’s Rona, I told her (falsely) many times over the past week and a half. Denial is as American as American Pie (the movie).

The reason why I was convinced it wasn’t the rona was because I could still taste and I just thought the news and its inundation of the consequences of toxic American masculinity where what was leaving me tired, run-down, and with an omnipresent headache.

The cure to the summer of ill (what I’m reading):

Rather than drinking lysol or stealing drugs from Lupus patients, I turned to James Baldwin to cure me of my rona malaise; specifically his essay (which was first published alongside photographs by Richard Avedon), “Nothing Personal,” published in 1964.

There is something to Baldwin’s description of America’s callous (and I’d say selfish) disregard for its children that has profound resonance when we look at the figure of the lone school shooter, the cowardly cops who let children die, and the Republican politicians justifying the bad behavior of all the men I just listed.

Imani Perry writes in a new forward to Baldwin’s essay about how his description of the “American boy” predicted the age of Trump, childish politician extraordinaire, and his willful petulance. But, we might as well speak of other American boys— such as emerald mine heirs who are trying to make America worse (again). I felt a shiver up my spine when I read this tweet (here’s a politico article for more terrifying context):

Granted that shiver could have just been the early fever I had last week from the rona, but I think as a metaphor it works for larger implications than my own health.

What horror of toxic masculinity brought us to here?

As Imani Perry states in the new 2021 forward to this essay, it was Baldwin who first illuminated that “Americans live as terrified adolescents,” and that further:

“the male politician is absolutely indistinguishable from the American boy. He doesn’t even seem much closer to the grave, which fact, in the case of our most influential politicians fills a great many people all over the world with despair.”

Perry asks that we “honor the indictment” of Baldwin’s words, and consider his evaluation of the past and how it informs our understanding of our current present tense.

Baldwin’s American as American Pie indictments:

“[America] is no place for love… I find nothing whatever in our moral and social climate— and I am now thinking particularly of the state of our children—to bear witness to their existence.”

“Nothing is more vivid in American life than the fact that we have no respect for our children, nor have our children any respect for us. By being what we have become, by placing things above people, we broke their hearts early, and drove them away.”

In his observations of how America treats its children, Baldwin concludes that,

“judged by this standard, we are a loveless nation.”

More to the point of this here newsletter, Baldwin points to the same deficit in education that has only grown deeper since 1965 (in fact, school are currently more segregated than they were during Baldwin’s life):

“We are so badly educated, for to become educated (as all tyrants have always known) is to become inaccessibly independent.”

Towards imagining different futures…

Because I’m finally recovering (so slowly) from my ‘rona/ American toxic masculinity malaise, I’d like to end on the hopeful note that Baldwin concludes one of his sections of this essay with. I think it speaks to the importance of Imani Perry’s call that we sit with Baldwin’s indictments of American culture so that we may envision a better future for our children:

“One day, perhaps, unimaginable generations hence, we will evolve into the knowledge that human beings are more important than real estate and will permit this knowledge to become the ruling principal of our lives. I will go to my grave believing that we can build Jerusalem, if we will.”

That’s all she wrote for this week folks. I’m ending on ABs’ tribute to the American children lost to toxic American boys— not just the lone school shooter, but the cowardly cops who stood by and did nothing, and the politicians’ rhetoric that made it all possible and ensures this will be swept under the rug:

The Children and Educators Lost to Toxic, Petulant American Boys:

Layla Salazar, eleven years old

She loved to swim and dance, and her dad misses “jamming” out with his daughter to Sweet Child O’Mine.” He said that now she would run with the angels.

Makenna Lee Elrod, ten years old

“She had the biggest heart and loved her family and friends so much.” Her mom will always remember the way her smile lit up a room.

Maranda Mathis, eleven years old

Her family described her as a “sweet, smart and shy tomboy who enjoyed being in nature and outdoors.” They wrote in her obituary, “those who knew Maranda, knew her great imagination and often expressed her love for unicorns, especially if they were her favorite color purple.”

Nevaeh Bravo, ten years old

Naveah, or heaven spelled backwards, “now flies with the angels” says her cousin. She said “her siblings have to wake up everyday knowing that she's not there.”

Jose Manuel Flores Jr, ten years old

Jose’s mother called him her “little shadow,” helping her around the house and taking care of his baby brother. Jose wanted to be a police officer when he grew up, to help protect others.

Xavier Lopez, ten years old

His mom said “he was funny, never serious, and his smile. That smile I will never forget.” He excelled in school, loved art, shooting hoops, and baseball.

Tess Marie Mata, ten years old

Tess was saving up for a family vacation to Disney World, leaving a full jar of change and cash in her bedroom. She loved the Houston Astros, and had older sisters who were her best friends. They said “sissy I miss you so much, I just want to hold you and tell you how pretty you are.”

Rojelio Torres, ten years old

His mother told the news, “i lost a piece of my heart.” His memorial is filled with a large stuffed Yoda, a Batman themed football, and many stuffed animals. Help his family fund his funeral here.

Eliahna “Ellie” Amyah Garcia, nine years old

Ellie was a planner. She already had her eyes on a dress for her Quince five years ahead of time. Her family agreed to buy her the dress to hang in her room until the big day, and she choreographed a celebratory dance.

Eliahna A. Torres, ten years old

Eliahna was number four on the softball team, in contention for a spot on the cities all-star team. Her last little league game of the season was supposed to be after school on Tuesday.

Annabell Gudalupe Rodriguez, ten years old

Annabell was a quiet kid and an earnest student on honor roll, and her family said “we are a very tight family, it’s just devastating.” Annabells cousin was another victim in the shooting.

Jackie Cazares, nine years old

Jackie recieved her First Communion just two weeks ago, and her family describe her as a girl who was full of life and brightened the day of the people around her. Her father said, “Jackie was the one that would go out of her way to help anyone… it gives me some comfort that she would have done something to help her classmates in that scenario.” Her cousin, Annabell, was also a victim.

Uziyah Garcia, ten years old

Uziyah visited grandfather during spring break and they spent the time playing football together. He said, “such a fast little boy and he could catch the ball so good…. He was the sweetest little boy I’ve ever known.

Jayce Carmelo Leuvanos, ten years old

Jayce made his grandparents a pot of coffee every morning, with little notes like “I love you Grandpa.” His grandfather said “he was our baby.” Jailah, Jaycee's cousin, was another victim in the shooting.

Maite Yuleana Rodriguez, ten years old

Maite wanted to study at Texas A&M university when she grew up to become a marine biologist. She was sweet, goal driven, and loved practicing photography. Her mother said “as I lay here on this empty bed with tears running down my face at 3am I would like to say to my baby girl that its not goodbye, it’s I’ll see you later my sweet girl.”

Jailah Nicole Silguero, ten years old

Jailah almost didn’t go to school that morning, asking if she should stay home. Her mother cried while saying this. Jailah was always dancing and making TikToks. Her cousin Jacye was another victim in the shooting.

Irma Garcia, forty-eight years old

Irma was at the end of her 23rd year of teaching the week she was killed. Two days after the shooting her husband Joe died from a heart attack, leaving their four children behind. Their nephew said “these two would make anyone feel loved no matter what.”

Eva Mireles, forty-four years old

Eva was an eductor for seven years, and her husband a school police officer who had run an active shooter drill only months before this happened. Eva called her daughter every day at 4:30 leaving campus, but that call did not come. She said “I don’t know how to do this life without you, but I will take care of dad, our dogs, and I will forever say your name.

Amerie Jo Garza, ten years old

Amerie was protective of her three year old little brother, and kissed him every morning before school. She was tried to dial 911 when she was shot, and will be remembered as a hero. She loved vanilla bean frappes, hated dresses, and wanted to grow up to be an art teacher. Her father said “please don’t take a second fro granted. Hug your family. Tell them that you love them. I love you Amerie Jo. Watch over your baby brother for me.

Alexandria “Lexi” Aniyah Rubio, ten years old

Lexi had just been awarded the good citizen ship sward, and had so much to look forward to like practicing softball and volleyball in the seventh grade. The family was contacted by Gov. Greg Abbots office but declined a meeting, her mother saying “Lexi doesn’t even like him, she was reall little, but we talked about this stuff at home.”

Alithia Ramirez, ten years old

Alithia loved to draw and shared her love for art and soccer with her best friend Nico who was stuck and killed by a car last year. She used artwork to provide solace to Nico’s parents. They talked about how pure and kind her heart was, and the drawing of him sketching in heaven while she was drawing on earth.

Further Reading:

For previous posts about James Baldwin, see: “When the going gets tough…” from May 03, 2022

For previous posts about why Elon Musk endorsing Desantis is ruulll bad news, see: “For F*ck’s Sake: Florida’s Rejection of Math Textbooks for CRT & SEL References.” from April 22, 2022.

and: “Don’t Say Straight: A Joint Statement on Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay” Bill,” from March 22, 2022.