They exist….
I had read about them, and I had heard of them, but until a week ago, I’d not yet encountered one. I am an avid camper…like tents and stuff. They call it Primitive Camping these days. Anyway, my love for it hearkens back to my days as a Boy Scout, which, as an organization, no longer exists. Now, it is just Scouts, which is open to females and deprives young males of an organization where they can bond exclusively with other young males. Sometimes, arcane practices like this still serve useful purposes like teaching loyalty, resilience, and developing a thick skin needed to navigate a hard world. But I digress.
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Been camping, been to Yellowstone…like last year, with my daughters. We saw grizzly bears, we saw wolves, we saw a black elk kicking the crap out of a coyote that actually thought it could take one down. Silly boy. But we did not see the one critter that is having a seriously detrimental impact upon our environment. We did not see the elusive but insidious Western Spotted WokeScold.
You kind of know they exist, but in my circles, they are sort of like the white alligator or the…well…the Bigfoot. Yes, the Bigfoot. Or Sasquatch (Squatch if you prefer). You have read of them, and you have seen the YouTube videos, but until you see one of these in the flesh, or the fur, you kind of hold on to your doubts. Surely, it’s just lore, fable, or the mentally dubious recollections of drunks, meth-heads, and Sovereign Citizens.
However, I am here to tell you the WokeScold, that insufferably self-righteous, socially aggressive, and brutally annoying creature actually exists. I know this because it was my great misfortune to meet one face-to-face. Not at Yellowstone a year ago, but last week….in my office. My place of employment. *Shudder* Just to be clear and straightforward, let us define our terms. The WokeScold is a 20-something college student who has greedily supped on a diet of…well…BS. Yes, BS. And they like the taste of it so much that they demand you imbibe as well. It’s not just like, “Hey, have you tried What-a-Burger? They’re great!” No, it’s more akin to “What-a-Burger is fantastic! You have to try it…You will try it, and you will like it, and you will forever sing the praises of What-a-Burger. If not, you’ll be canceled and forever condemned to the Dungheap of Culinary History. You’ll be stamped with the Scarlet Letter of Hatred and exiled to the Space Station of Solitude that exists on the outer rings of Facebook Saturn.”
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So, one day at work, my boss was having an idle conversation of a political nature with someone when I ambled over with a work-related question. As I wandered into that minefield, not realizing it was a minefield because that’s what defines minefields, my boss goes, “So what do you think?” Immediately realizing his mistake, he said, “Oh, forget it. Forget it. Nevermind.” However, the person he was conversing with, a middle-aged white woman from the purchasing department who is so white she makes asphalt look like mayonnaise, perked up and said, “So what do you think about it, White Man?”
White Man?… White Man. Well, I simply replied that I do not discuss politics at work, thinking it would extricate me from the mire that was soon to flow downhill like liquid crap. I wasn’t really offended or put off because I know this woman and realize she was just being facetious. However, at the same time, I was also fully aware she would never have dared pose a similar question to the woman two cubicles on the left. That woman is Black, African-American, a Person of Color, or whatever the Nom du Jour happens to be on Wednesdays. It just isn’t done. The Rules of Duplicity simply do not permit crossing that boundary from the other direction. Anyway, as I avoided answering the question, it kind of became obvious that I was holding my cards at the vest. But if I was not going to share, it must be that…
“You’re a Trumper???!!!!” she cried loud enough for the entire customer service department and their charges on the phones to plainly hear.
At this, things began to move quickly. The WokeScold Action Commander of Emergency Response Team Sixwas alerted by text from a co-worker. Sitting on the toilet in the lavatory down the hall, (for real) Der Shock Troop Kommissar received the bat signal that “(Boss) and Dan are talking politics!” With that, the good soldier completed business, flushed, and double-timed it up that hallway to partake in the confrontation soon to come. Arriving at a brisk clip to a nearby desk, the young WokeScold assumed a battle-ready stance with arms akimbo. I could tell it was a female because of the overly large horn-rimmed Smart Girl glasses that swallowed up most of her face.
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So the conversation went on, but I politely demurred. I have made it a policy to avoid political conversations for my two years here as I am an island in a sea of liberal and progressive women. I just put on my headphones when at my desk and tune them out. I have to work with these people and have no interest in discussing politics or socio-cultural trends with them.
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However, possibly in an attempt to bait me, WokeScold brought up the subject of the Transgenders, and at this I failed. I took the bait. I took the bait because I have one of these kiddos. And as I am invested, it became unavoidable. Because I am weak. Or maybe because I am strong and wanted to advocate for myself. I don’t know.
So when the WokeScold claimed that if you don’t use the approved pronouns, you’re being disrespectful, I went in. I kind of went all in. I mentioned that I have a child who believes she is transgender, and while I do not encourage it, I do not discourage it either. This nonsense began when she was 17 (she is now 20) with the full backing of her public high school teachers, and while I don’t like it, I cannot forget the words of Vlad Lenin when writing about religion. Religion is like a nail, he said. And the harder you hit it, the deeper it will go. So I said that I have reached a compromise with my daughter and told her that I will call her by her new name because it sounds like a variant of her real name (it would be another matter if she had chosen Dave). I will accept that this is what she wants (because I believe it is a trend she will grow out of one day), but I will not use the pronouns, and that if she expects me to believe that she is a Real Boy like Pinnochio, I will not comply because that tromps on my own belief that Trangenderism is not a legitimate thing.
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I changed her diapers, I told the ‘Scold, so I know exactly what she is.
This, of course, led to the expected I-Know-Better-Than-You remark, “Well, gender and sex are two different things,” to which I simply replied, “I don’t believe you,” and then moved on to address another person who had said something to me.
This dismissive answer “triggered” WokeScold, and she was genuinely shocked. With mouth agape that someone would actually have the gall to disbelieve her, she clutched invisible pearls at her chest and fell back on “So these people don’t Exist?!”
“What people don’t exist?”
“Trans Men and Trans Women!” The outrage was beginning to percolate.
“Well, as far as human beings who believe they are the opposite sex than what they actually are, well, yes, they live on the earth and breathe the air. So those people physically exist,” I replied.
“Well, the fact that you refer to your daughter as ‘she’ is proof that you don’t respect her at all,” WokeScold said through a mouthful of self-contradiction.
“I think this is a trend that she will probably grow out of, and I am not obliged to subordinate my beliefs to satisfy your own. If she wants to call herself Transgender, then that’s what she is going to do. But neither she nor anyone else has the right to demand that I go along and actually believe that She is He.”
The ‘Scold perked up and claimed, “It’s about Respect! Nobody is demanding that you believe anything.“
“I don’t know, but you seem kind of insistent,” I said.
Ignoring the comment, she went on. “And it’s not a fad. More people are coming out as Trans because it’s becoming more accepted. Most reasonable people are becoming less oppressive and hateful.” Scold continued, her index finger raised to make the point like those old photos of bin Ladin. “A hundred years ago, left-handed people were ostracized for being left-handed. Now that they are no longer oppressed, more people are identifying as left-handed.”
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I’ve heard this before from Transgender activists, so I suspect this is a truism that gets pushed in progressive college discussions by progressive college teachers. This is why I think that the current generation of college students is trained what to think and not how to think.
“Okay,” I began. “You believe that Transgenderism is a real thing. I get it. But you might want to use a different argument to support it.”
“Oh? Why should I do that?”
“Because if you believe Transgenderism is a social construct and independent of genetics and biology, then it doesn’t really help your credibility to underscore your argument with one that relies on genetics and biology,” I said.
At this, Scold regarded me as an idiot and sort of gave me a little condescending ponytail-wagging head shake, saying, “What are you talking about?”
“Is someone left-hand dominant by choice?”
“Of course not. It’s just who they are,” she said.
“It’s more than that,” I said. “It’s what they are. At least in part. And that is determined by DNA. Their genetic makeup. Nobody decides to be right-handed or left-handed. If it isn’t in their genetic code, where does it come from?”
Blank stare.
“So it doesn’t make sense to me that you would use an argument that is DNA-based to underpin an argument that is not DNA-based. I don’t think that’s how logical analysis works.”
Say what you want about the Jesuits, at least you can still get classical training in philosophy and reason by Aristotle, Socrates, and Aquinas to give you a bedrock of critical thinking from which to analyze post-modern thought by transgender activists like John Money, Simone de Beauvoir…and WokeScolds.
Anyway, the response was interesting….
“Your ideas are just stupid,” she said.
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“So if I understand you correctly,” I said, “It’s really important to give people respect…as long as they agree with you. Otherwise…” I just sort of let that one hang in the air.
For that, the WokeScold became visibly shocked. Room kind of got quiet. From behind the big, thick Smart Girl glasses, I got two laser beams of Stink Eye before she fell back on:
“Whatever.”
So, the conversation died as it should have. Work really isn’t the place you want to engage in stuff like this, and I admit I could have walked away. I guess when someone you don’t really know and who really doesn’t know you makes a dumbass comment like, “You don’t respect your child,” it’s just hard to walk by without saying something back. But my final thought is this.
It’s sad, and it’s destructive when educators start molding their students to think about topics in a singular way. If they don’t critically challenge a belief or supposition in class, the students don’t learn how to do that. They just learn that what the teacher tells is unquestionably true. And then, when those students go on to become teachers themselves (like my WokeScold), it is entirely believable that they will pass this failure of education right down the line to produce more people who will not question or challenge. This simply creates a population — and at greater scope, a society — willing to be led. And this is where we are today. And this is bad.
Dan Zoernig is a commercial photographer, retoucher, and illustrator in St. Louis, Missouri. Earning a degree in History/Political Science from Rockhurst University, he has been commenting on social and policy matters since the early 2000s.