Trump’s Slavish Stupidity

I raised my hand. The nun called on me.

She was telling my grade-school class at Nativity — 7-year-olds in green uniforms — about the pitiless epoch of slavery.

I thought I had an important counterintuitive point to make — even though it would be another decade before I knew what “counterintuitive” meant.

“One thing,” I piped up, “is that we got all these really great people in our country.”

Although Washington has always been very segregated, my family lived in an integrated neighborhood and my two best friends were Black sisters named Deborah and Peaches. I was about to tell the nun about them when she crooked her finger and beckoned me to the front of the room.

When I got there, she roughly pulled me over her lap, yanked my pinafore up and spanked me hard — delivering many whacks. The other students gawked.

I got the message: There was no silver lining to slavery. There is nothing positive to say. Ever. Under any circumstances.

If only that nun were still around to drill that into the president’s thick skull.

Donald Trump is what the nuns called “a bold, brazen piece,” transgressing in nefarious and damaging ways. He said this week that he’s worried about getting into heaven. He should be. The no-nonsense Franciscan sisters at Nativity would have warned him to worry. He has invented new commandments, beyond the usual 10, to break.