Can we at least talk about it?

Believe whatever you want to.

Tell me why. Defend your beliefs and viewpoints in a plausible way.

That’s one of the greatest life lessons I’ve ever learned. That advice was given to me in the early 1980s by my first boss at a newspaper.

Mr. Maurer – everyone called him Mr. out of respect – was well into his 80s by then. He began his journalism teaching career at the University of Michigan in 1924, and chaired the U-M journalism department from 1949 until his retirement in 1966.

Along the way, he bought the Mackinac Island (Mich.) Town Crier in 1957 and staffed it with U-M students learning the business. In 1975, Mr. Maurer purchased the St. Ignace News and the Les Cheneaux Islands Weekly Wave, which later merged with the News.

That’s where I met him – as a fresh-out-of-college reporter at the Weekly Wave in Cedarville, Mich., in 1982.

Always the professor, Mr. Maurer gave me a three-year paid internship. At least, that’s the way I look back on my time there. I was working in the real world and, at the same time, learning in the classroom of Mr. Maurer’s office.

Mr. Maurer, a member of the Michigan Journalism Hall of Fame, organized Michigan’s first teachers’ union, the Michigan Federation of Teachers, and served as its president in 1936-37. He also formed the Ann Arbor Citizens Council, was active in the Wesleyan Foundation and served on the national committee of the American Civil Liberties Union.

He was still running the Mackinac Island and St. Ignace newspapers when he died in 1995 at age 98.

Mr. Maurer had many Bibles on his bookshelves. He was not a Jesus follower, but he respected my values – and challenged me to defend them in a convincing way.

Cancel culture not new

This mindset is gone in the cancel culture society of 2021.

Cancel culture has been around for a long time. We tend to interpret history to fit our views, canceling the truth. Prayer in public schools, for example, was never banned. What the U.S. Supreme Court has repeatedly struck down are state-sponsored or state-organized prayers in public schools. Individual or voluntary student-led prayers are, and always have been, allowed.

Cancel culture is a pejorative expression describing the use of boycotts and public shaming to hold people accountable for offensive words or actions … The expression is typically used with negative connotations in debates on free speech and censorship.

Crushing free speech by censoring viewpoints is the opposite of what Mr. Maurer stood for. In today’s cancel culture, we no longer discuss issues – because we no longer know what we believe in. Or we think we are right and everyone else is wrong.

The whole truth …

We use the Bible to judge those who support abortion. The Bible says more than “Thou shalt not kill.” The entire point of the Bible is redemption and restoration. We either don’t know that or conveniently overlook it, instead condemning people who don’t think or act like we think they should.

Is the Cleveland Indians name offensive? To whom?

The word “Indians” is neutral, neither praiseworthy nor derogatory. It is what it is, but that’s no longer good enough.

The Central Michigan University Chippewas and Florida State University Seminoles have received support from Indian tribes to keep their nicknames. Cancel culture is not as widespread as it’s made out to be.

The latest “victims” of cancel culture are several Dr. Seuss children’s books and Mr. Potato Head, whose name will remain “Mr.” after all.

And I’ve seen a few Facebook memes saying that history should not be rewritten – ie, canceled – to suit today’s culture.

Can we at least talk about it?

History is written by people with the power of the pen and with the means to publish. Who tells the story of those not so endowed? More to the point, who has the courage to listen to society’s forgotten people and report their stories – from their point of view?

Let’s face it. American history was written by wealthy white people, mostly men. Blacks and other minorities are either left out or portrayed in a negative light, generally speaking.

Can we at least talk about it?

And to think that cancel culture has a chance …

That’s one of the greatest lessons I learned in 2020. This week begins the trial of Derek Chauvin, the Minneapolis police officer charged with killing George Floyd. That case sparked outrage and claims of systemic racism, which many Blacks claim remains pervasive today.

Can we at least talk about it?

Last year, we did. Often peacefully.

Systemic racism remains, and all Americans, whites and minorities alike, have roles to play in ending it. One or two people at a time.

By talking about it and listening to each other.

Not by cancel culture.

Cancel culture leads to blaming, shaming and censorship. As a Christian and as a journalist – both roles which I claim to follow and support – I say that cancel culture provides no solutions at all, only anger, bitterness and hatred.

The most famous book on that cancel list is “And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street,” which explores the difference between how kids perceive the world and how adults do.

I’ve seen reviews that claim these six books (but not Theodor Geisel’s most popular Dr. Seuss books) have racist overtones.

Geisel’s stepdaughter, Lark Grey Dimond-Cates, told the New York Post there “wasn’t a racist bone in that man’s body,” but also said suspending publication of the six titles was “a wise decision.” But the controversy left many perplexed, since the decision was made by Dr. Seuss Enterprises and not as a result of public pressure that has preceded other such decisions.

According to one review,

In the end, Marco’s dad ends up repressing his childlike imagination and joy. Instead of allowing his flights of fancy and nurturing his creativity, his father forces him to conform to the same, old boring world that everyone else lives in.

Seuss is obviously Team Kids all the way and shows in this book that it’s dangerous when adults try to repress the wild and valuable imaginations that kids have. Instead of sharing in the wonder that kids experience, adults try to stop them from enjoying things and force super boring realities on them instead. What a drag.

In the end, poor Marco concedes to his dad’s idea of reality and he gets embarrassed when he tells him what he actually saw:

“Nothing,” I said, growing red as a beet,
“But a plain horse and wagon on Mulberry Street.” (121-122)

Marco’s dad has managed to make him feel embarrassed about sharing his stories with him, but that doesn’t mean he’s won. After all, Marco’s still got that imagination on him.

Is that worth canceling?

Let’s talk about it.

Indeed, it appears the story itself is about cancel culture – and how it won’t work. The child in the story keeps his imagination, even if his father won’t allow it.

Good for him.