As we left the tiny country church near Dad’s Mississippi Delta farm, my boyhood best friend and mentor Jaybird asked, “Son, as much as love singing Christmas carols, why didn’t you sing today?”
The old black man was right. I knew them all, having memorized them while listening to Christmas albums over and over again, but a stinging insult from a man sharing our pew embarrassed me so painfully that I couldn’t sing. Jaybird loved my caterwauling, as I gleefully sang, “Joy To The World,” “Silent Night, Holy Night,” “O Little Town Of Bethlehem,” and other carols.
Once spoken, unkind words cannot be unspoken. A few days before, when I climbed into the bus after school, the driver, Mr. Smith quipped, “You love to sing in church, don’t you, boy?” Expecting praise, I chirped, “Yes, Sir.”The Comment section of online publications is the new front in the ongoing Cancel Culture Battle.
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