“Hey Mr. Lenci, want to hear a political joke?” Recess ended, and seventh graders arrived in a flurry of Goldfish crumbs and cold air. Abby, armed with her backpack and a sense of humor, bounced on her feet in anticipation. “So you’re ready for the political joke?” I was. “OK, wait for it.” Pause. “Donald Trump!”
At the time — it must have been the winter of 2016, with the Republican convention still many months away — Donald Trump was a political joke among those across the political spectrum, and here was a student of mine, all 12 years of age, piling it on. I was flooded with questions: Do I laugh this off? Does the idea of neutrality require that I issue some equivocating statement (“Well, not everyone thinks that…”)? Is there some threshold of political gravitas for a candidate to reach, at which point joking becomes political commentary? Has Trump reached that level? If so, do we need to steer clear? What will other students read into my response? Are there any Goldfish left?
I think often of that moment. Intuition led me to affirm the jokester (“Ha!”) and move on quickly. But what a difference a…