Dresses.
“Maybe we’ll come out and wear dresses tomorrow. Maybe that’s what everybody’s looking for.”
Is it disappointing? Yes. Is it because he’s a Republican from Texas? I don’t know. Does he know better? I don’t know. Did he mean it? I don’t know. Should everyone be mad? I don’t know.
Sometimes you can answer more than one of these questions. If you know someone, if one of your friends fucked up, if you've observed a long standing pattern. You may then be able to say with certainty that they know better, that they were told, that they meant it, that you should be mad. Sometimes you can answer all of these questions and a million others that follow.
Can you answer these questions about John Gibbons and his flippant horseshit? Rightfully? I can’t. Yes, it’s disappointing that he neglected to choose his words carefully or to think about their larger implications. It is. I agree. It was a sexist thing to say, it was hurtful, it bothers me that it was so easy for him to reach for that specific verbiage in that specific situation. Does it being disappointing mean that answer to those other questions I asked is “yes”? I don’t think so.
Is it because he’s a Republican from Texas? Probably not.
Does he know better? Apparently not.
Did he mean it? Probably not.
Should everyone be mad? Fuck, I don’t know.
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It’s easy to look at a man like John Gibbons and connect the dots between what he said and where he’s from or between what he said and the jocular, shitty sporting culture that raised him. It is perhaps less easy to look at a man like John Gibbons and say: “Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe someone should tell him.” They so often don’t know until you tell them.
Can we hope for better? Yes. Should we expect better? Yes. Was he wrong to say what he said? Yes. Is it your responsibility to educate some guy you don’t know about why what he said was messed up? Fuck no! But they so often don’t know until you tell them. It is easy to be outraged and easy to assign malicious intent to a stranger and easy to let unrepentant bullshit from the internet jade your sights in living colour. They so often don’t know until you tell them.
It is easy to say that he was wrong. He was wrong. It’s hard to say what comes after. It’s hard to say what it means. It’s hard to be nuanced and forgiving when you’re so fucking mad all the time.
Here, then, are my new five questions:
Is it disappointing? Yes.
Is it part of a pattern of repeat behaviour from this specific person? No.
Do I believe that he was malicious, or do I believe that he was careless? I believe that he was careless.
Do you want him to know why what he said was wrong so that he doesn’t say it again, or do you want him to know that he fucked up and you’re mad and he should know better, goddamnit? The former. Always the former.
Is this an opportunity for education or is this a chance to light a fucking fire and admonish a stranger for the intent we have projected onto him? You can answer that one, I think.
“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
