Mr. V*nce was a hairy man with a fat belly and even fatter sense of self-righteousness.
He was not racist, he claimed, just unable to ignore the fact that President Obama was the first president not to pray at the Christmas Tree lighting ceremony.
“That man is a Muslim!!” he suddenly shouted from behind his desk.
I looked up from my disjunctive syllogism, “Why are you calling him a Muslim? He says he’s a Christian.”
If P is true or Q is true and P is false, then Q is true
“Why would he lie?” I continued, ignoring the stares of my classmates, “and if he was a Muslim, wouldn’t he pray to his Muslim God instead?”
Obama is a Christian, or he is a Muslim.
Fox News says that Obama is not a Christian.
Therefore, Obama is a Muslim.
“Absolutely not” Mr. V*nce bellowed, shocked at my naivete, “he has to lie. He’s lied about everything else. He wasn’t even born in America. He was born in AFRICA.”
His words hit me like a wad of infectious saliva.
I think Mr. V*nce had forgotten who he was speaking to.
In that moment, my hair felt extra kinky. My nose felt extra wide. My lips felt extra luscious.
Hatred. Hatred towards me, my president, my people, and my heritage.
Lil’ brown girl was slowly realizing what it meant to black in conservative white America.
Luckily, she could see no logic in her logic teacher’s claims.