"Beyond Condemnation: The Questions We Must Ask"

Did you see the article “Racist Texts About Slaves and ‘Picking Cotton’ Condemned by NAACP as State AGs, Police and Colleges Probe Their Origins?”

The disturbing nature of these newly uncovered text messages—overflowing with racist and dehumanizing language—demands more than casual condemnation or a passive nod to our outrage. Yes, the timing matters. In a post-election moment when tensions are high and divisions are pronounced, these messages feel especially insidious. But my more profound concern lies in the “Why.” What compels someone to invest in such “vile and abhorrent rhetoric”? What purpose does this ugliness serve?

Is it a post-election victory lap, a twisted celebration of ideological supremacy? Or perhaps it’s a stark warning of what’s to come, a harbinger meant to instill fear? The expected return on this cruel investment is as troubling as it is unclear, yet the echoes of history tell us that such rhetoric is seldom aimless. These are questions that deserve more than perfunctory dismissal. If we’re tempted to brush off these messages as the ravings of a deranged minority, let us pause.

I am reminded of W.E.B. Du Bois, who so powerfully articulated the struggle of integrity in the face of oppression and decency in the face of insult. His words ring eerily true: “How shall Integrity face Oppression? What shall Honesty do in the face of Deception, Decency in the face of Insult, Self-Defense before Blows?” This call to consider not only the immediate reaction but the larger context is relevant now more than ever. For some, such affronts come rarely, while for others, the insults and threats are a daily, lived reality.

I don’t pretend to have the answers. But I do have an abundance of questions, and perhaps, as the author of QBQ suggests, better answers begin with asking better questions. How does our society create conditions where such messages not only emerge but thrive? What unspoken permissions are being granted, and to whom? Why are some so willing to abandon our collective humanity for cheap rhetorical shots steeped in cruelty?

We cannot afford to dismiss this as “normal” or expected. We must be defiant against any attempt to normalize hate. Instead, I challenge us to stand tall, to face this with curiosity and courage, and to ask those hard, better questions. Because behind these questions lies the potential to confront not just the symptoms but the sickness, not just the moment but the larger movement toward—or away from—justice and decency.

Let’s be relentless in our inquiry. Our collective future depends on it.