Like most stereotypes, there’s a slice of truth. A child decides maybe they don’t identify with their birth sex and talks about it. People overhear. Someone tells a parent. The dad, who’s confused and worried about the way the world is going, gets angry because now the world’s shitstorm has found its way to his family–the people he was supposed to lead and set an example for.
He can’t understand it, but he can sure as hell put a stop to it–at least in his house. So he laws down the law with his kid, who’s damn well going to stay the way God intended. The or else is left to the imagination of the kid, whose image of the world as a big, ugly place has just been confirmed.
Now the kid, who’s awash in angst and confusion to begin with, can’t talk through anything at home. And sure as hell can’t trust anyone else.
It’s a story that doesn’t end well.
In the state of Oklahoma, it’s the rule of the land. According to Ryan Walters, Oklahoma’s elected Superintendent of Public Instruction, if an educator finds out a child has changed their sexual identity, they’re required to inform parents.
In an NBC News article, Walters told a group called City Elders, which advocates for a Christian-based government, that he’s in “a war for the souls of our kids.” In the same appearance, he said that liberals want to make children hate their parents and their country. So much for the Constitution and representing all voters.
To counter these conditions, Walters wants to require the Ten Commandments in every classroom and has supported a moment of silence for prayer in all public schools.
In the midst of all his political action, Walters hasn’t been so good at the job of actually leading a bureaucracy. In a previous post as state education secretary, Walters was put in charge of dispersing $40 million in federal pandemic funding. Two audits found that the money was spent on power tools, kitchen appliances, televisions, and Christmas trees. He blamed the vendor, but the audit found that Walters gave blanket approval for expenditures and didn’t take advantage of controls proposed by that vendor aimed at preventing mismanagement.
Staff members in the Education Department have found out about policy decisions by videos posted on Twitter.
In short, while using his position as a lever to forward political and arguably unconstitutional policies, Walters failed at the more basic job of overseeing his department. If you’re fighting a war for the souls of our kids, perhaps you should take care of the money budgeted to fund their education and show a modicum of what the business world considers leadership.
Walters is also a fan of book banning, prohibiting “sexualized content” in libraries and warning state vendors against sending “inappropriate materials” for classroom use. On its face, this would seem to be a reasonable regulation, but it’s often used again authors like Jodi Picoult and Nora Roberts, whose books would hardly be considered pornography. No one’s pushing to show PornHub content to third-graders. And if my kid wants to read Nineteen Minutes and I’m okay with that, someone with a Moms for Liberty list, a mess of post cards, and free time shouldn’t get to overrule my parental decision.
In short, Walters is the exact definition of the parody liberals have painted of cultural conservatives for almost half a century. And while voluntary prayer circles after a football game can hardly be considered establishment of a state religion, posting Bible verses in classrooms and mandating classroom prayer is.
If Walters were an isolated incident, we could all shake our heads and say “Guess we won’t move to Oklahoma.” He’s not. Similar efforts are afoot in localities across the country and in most red states.
Ironically, this move to institutionalize cancel culture in the name of Jesus and common decency comes while many of the same people are complaining about the supposed banning of Fat Bottomed Girls, a song sung by a gay man about a plus-sized nanny who performed statutory rape on a young boy.
Go figure.
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