Shifra Dayak

Ms. Whitney

AP Language and Composition

February 2019

Columnist Response: “Nope, she shouldn’t have said it. But potty-mouth Trump has the nerve to

be offended?”

In “Nope, she shouldn’t have said it. But potty-mouth Trump has the nerve to be

offended?” (8 January 2019), columnist Leonard Pitts Jr. argues that Republicans should not

condemn Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib for using an expletive to describe President Donald

Trump because they are exhibiting blatant hypocrisy by doing so. Pitts precedes his argument

with a clarification that he does not appreciate the modern commonality of bad language since

that decreases its intended shock factor, but then provides countless examples of disrespectful

language from conservatives to disqualify their rebuke of Tlaib. Pitts employs contrasting

diction, as well as rhetorical questions, in order to show his distaste for Republican hypocrisy

regarding language and name-calling in an engaging way. Through his frequent sarcasm, Pitts

builds a casual relationship with his readers, who are intended to be individuals who are unsure

of their ideology and need a convincing argument to view GOP politicians with a critical eye.

Pitts makes an unusual yet effective choice in alternating between opposite types of

diction throughout his piece. His utilization of conversational phrases, like “Lord, give me

strength,” keeps his audience engaged and prevents his writing from becoming convoluted. On

the other hand, his frequent choice of complex emotional words such as “vituperate” and

“calamity” convey the weight of his passion and truly illustrate the negative attitude he has

toward the Republican party. As the issues of political language he discusses — Trump’s rebuke
of kneeling football players and undocumented immigrants, for example — are largely moral

ones, Pitts’ decision to appeal to pathos is logical and is mainly advanced by fervent tirades

against conservative hypocrisy. Although Pitts’ writing jumps back and forth between an

impassioned and exasperated tone, it is surprisingly easy to follow and pushes readers to

reconsider their preconceived notions about the acceptance of different types of language in a

political context.

Irony is perhaps the most skillful device implemented by Pitts in his article. His dislike of

constant foul language is evident from the start of his column, when despite his statement that

Republicans have unnecessarily “caught the vapors” about Tlaib’s expletive, he laments that the

world of political language is now a “free-fire zone.” However, the last sentence he leaves

readers with is about how “Republicans… just don't give a damn,” a choice which is made

extraordinarily powerful and noticeable by its role as a standalone paragraph. Pitts likely

employs this technique as a warning or challenge to Republicans who plan to criticize him like

they did Tlaib. By doing so, he advances his passionate tone and develops his accusatory,

enthusiastic style of writing.

Despite his effectiveness, Pitts’ downfall is his tendency to slip into tangents and resort to

intense verbal onslaught to convey his emotions. His reliance on multiple paragraphs where he

accuses Republicans of “[profaning] America’s ideals” or similar offenses may not be received

well by those he is trying to convert and convince. Rather, his largely negative tirades may cause

further polarization between those who think like him and the conservatives he is rebuking in his

writing. Evidently, the implications of Pitts’ column mark our divided world — his commentary

on the hypocrisy evoked by discussions on political language, as well as the plausible reactions
from the group he is targeting, is a testament to the various divisions and discourse in our

socio-political world.
 Columnist Response: “Genocide! Thousands died! Isn’t that a hoot?”

In “Genocide! Thousands died! Isn’t that a hoot?” (12 February 2019), columnist

Leonard Pitts Jr. asserts that it is unacceptable for the Trump family to make jokes about Native

American genocide and generally expresses his disappointment that ridiculing trauma is

normalized in modern society. By describing the process by which marginalized groups are

dehumanized through quips about their trauma, Pitts lambasts the incredulous nature of current

“humor.” As an onlooker in the recent political arena, Pitts’ conviction to degrade politicians for

their disgusting statements stems from mounting outrage over modern standards for jokes

regarding the oppressed, and manifests in a column that warns others not to slip into patterns of

offensive humor. In giving the aforementioned warning, Pitts is not only addressing his

politically-diverse readers in an effort to stop them from slipping into the derogatory humor that

is so common in today’s world, but is also speaking directly to the very politicians he castigates

to show his distaste for their behavior.

Pitts’ tirade against Donald Trump Sr. and Jr.’s jokes about the Trail of Tears is bolstered

by his signature alternation between bitter and sarcastic tones. His most striking sarcasm is in the

title itself, where exclamation marks show the absurdity of laughing at genocide in a Trumpian

fashion. Later, by referring to unbelievable societal conventions on accepted jokes through

sardonic phrases like “the Trail of Tears and other jokes,” Pitts illustrates the gravity of humor’s

demise while putting forth the statement that he disapproves of the grouping of trauma with

admissible humor. His employment of ridiculing rhetorical questions like “Have you slapped

your knee yet?”, a phrase meant to reference exaggerated displays of joking behavior, keep his

readers attentive while further demonstrating his reproach of the unbelievable jokes often in the
limelight. Pitts’ emotional diction when referencing the horrific actions of white people against

marginalized groups, including terms like “looting” and “ravaged,” highlights the bitterness in

his writing, as does his succinct and straightforward syntax. By limiting his message to short

sentences like “white people took that, too,” Pitts reveals his inability to tolerate inappropriate

humor and the depth of his hatred for those who joke about tragedy. Through the juxtaposition of

his personal views with satirical figures of speech, combined with his display of powerful

language, Pitts strengthens the shaming intent of his column.

Pitts makes a powerful choice in frequently using direct address to convey his objection

to humor involving trauma. By making simple yet thoughtful statements like “when you laugh at

someone else’s traumas and passages, you diminish them… and exile them from empathy,” he

elevates his warning against inappropriate jokes. Pitts’ continual usage of the phrase “you see”

holds audiences’ attention while similarly acting as a deterrent against the unseemly humor that

he condemns throughout his piece. Pitts further rebukes trauma-ridden jokes with the use of

imperative commands like “show some respect,” which serve to lecture his audience against

submitting to improper societal standards in a forceful manner.

Although his transparent, opinionated statements allow him to easily share his dislike of

politicians’ humor, Pitts’ downfall comes in his organization. Beyond providing historical

context about the Trail of Tears to preface his censure of Trump’s statement on genocide, Pitts

does not give readers the depth or logistical arrangement necessary to fully grasp his argument.

He constantly references other situations of oppression, from Covington Catholic School

students’ debasement of an indigenous elder to Ralph Northam’s alleged use of blackface, yet

fails to delve into those instances or elaborate on how they are related to the uncalled-for humor
he rails against. His claim that discrimination and racism by politicians is “the true State of our

Union” — a jab at Trump’s annual speech — is seemingly out-of-place and not expanded upon

to build clarity. Pitts’ inclusion of varying surface-level statements in this piece makes it difficult

for his audience to absorb and follow. Ultimately, however, he fulfills his desire to communicate

his disgust with the caliber of humor that circulates on the modern political stage. Pitts’ terror

about the Trumps’ comments on genocide is simply one illustration of an attitude that should be

universally accepted — turning oppression into a punchline is unacceptable.

 Columnist Response: “What part of ‘love thy neighbor’ do we still not get?”

Leonard Pitts, Jr. an avid advocate for justice and acceptance, reinforces themes of unity

in his column “What part of ‘thy neighbor’ do we still not get?” (23 November 2018). By

pointing out the hypocrisy of self-proclaimed Christians who degrade immigrants and lambasting

the “us-versus-them” mentality, Pitts asserts that Americans’ treatment of those crossing the

border, such as a two-year-old girl who was recently sent to a deportation hearing, is not

reflective of the compassion the nation should be exhibiting. In writing a column that intends to

hold individuals accountable for their judgemental and sanctimonious attitudes and urge

Americans to practice further tolerance, Pitts speaks to white Christians who have taken a

negative stance on immigration in an effort to alter their mindsets.

Pitts’ signature curt, disappointed syntax makes an impactful appearance in this piece. By

employing straightforward transitional phrases such as “A few words about ‘us’ and them’” and

“Meantime, babies go to court,” Pitts strikes and encaptures his audience. Whether to express his

frustration with the closed-minded outlooks white Christians hold, or to provide blunt and

sympathy-evoking context for the border-crossing situation, Pitts’ brief sentence structure leaves

his readers with a lasting impression on the issue of immigration. This style of syntax combined

with his eloquent diction make Pitts’ message incredibly effective. By using complex word

choice like “poignant” and “harsh platitudes,” he not only appeals to readers’ respect for his

professionalism and thus establishes himself as a reliable speaker on the ethics of immigration

policy, but also fluently communicates his disgust with exclusionary American attitudes towards

Latino people seeking asylum in the U.S.

 Pitts’ central mechanism in authoring this call to action for generosity and kindness is his

recurrent biblical allusions. Pitts deliberately published this article during the holiday season so

he could contextually refer to Jesus’ message of unconditional love for all. In quoting various

passages of the Bible, including “Whatever you do unto the least of these, you have done it also

unto me” and the simple “Love your neighbor as yourself,” Pitts immediately relates to his

Christian audience’s values of service. His creation of a column with religious appeal juxtaposes

ideal Christian behavior of benevolence with the ironic, discriminatory behavior of many white

Americans toward immigrants. By chastening Christians for their unacceptable mindset about

asylum-seekers’ characters, especially those of vulnerable individuals like the two-year-old he

continually refers to, Pitts adopts a forceful yet justified perspective on acceptance of

immigrants.

Pitts’ trademark inclusion of quotes from famous figures makes multiple appearances in

this piece. To show his white Christian readers how they should harmoniously receive

immigrants, Pitts showcases cliched quotes about unity from Martin Luther King Jr. and John

Lennon. In doing so, he obviously takes advantage of the audience’s name-recognition and

appeals to their acknowledgement of authority while consecutively igniting their emotions; he

especially agitates guilt for their hypocrisy, which he seems to be keen on inciting. However,

these quotes contrarily give readers the impression that Pitts himself is devoid of ideas about

tolerance and thus, resorts to famous people’s ideas. Regardless of whether he displays his own

words or not, Pitts has a decided goal in remarking on the hypocrisy of American Christians on

immigration policy and ultimately manages to put forth a convincing and memorable call to

action for love rather than exclusion.

 Leonard Pitts, Jr., A Fiery Defender of the Oppressed

To any outsider, it would seem that Leonard Pitts, Jr.’s sole mission in life is neutralizing

the wrongs of horrific American behavior. Rightfully so, he confronts the most pressing and

hot-button breaches of morality with a condescending eye. His appeals are not focused on facts,

numbers, or statistics — rather, he zeroes in on the basic American value of respect and appeals

to common desires for civility to support his calls for equality. He lifts up the voices of the

oppressed in all circles of society, whether they are mistreated immigrants or systemically

trampled children, and demands that they be treated with consideration. Pitts does not hesitate to

call out figures who are wrong in how they treat others, passing over factors of political clout or

economic status in favor of judging by character and character alone. Yet any dedicated follower

of his writing can see that Pitts’ mission goes far beyond simply making society courteous again.

His deeper goal is to instill values of morality, love, and unity in American individuals regardless

of demographic differences; this is a result he tirelessly works for as he adopts the persona of an

impassioned social justice advocate through his pointed commentary.

In preaching against American injustice, Pitts appeals to those who have morals similar to

his. His socially progressive views, such as claiming the validity of the movement against police

brutality (his support for which is outlined in “Blacks pay a high price for America’s willful

ignorance”), likely do not sit well with traditionally-inclined Americans. Thus, it is natural that

Pitts directs his commentary toward those who will undoubtedly receive it with a passion for

change similar to his own. On the surface, his appeals may seem to pave the way for an echo

chamber of people who think like him in terms of compassion for all. The reality, however, is

that he does exactly the opposite in sparking inspiration and furthering his readers’ drive to
create change and bring back love. Consider his call for acceptance in “What part of ‘love thy

neighbor’ do we still not get,” where his writing is a reminder for inclusive readers to stay

motivated in their advocacy for love and to continue acting like “people striving for the courage

to see community in difference.” Pitts is clearly familiar with a progressive audience — he lives

in the community-focused suburbs of Maryland and writes for the Miami Herald, located in a

forward-thinking metropolitan center, taking advantage of the accepting mindsets he encounters

in both locations to craft pieces that are specifically targeted toward activists looking for reform.

While Pitts’ primary audience is fellow justice advocates, some of his writing also decidedly

targets corrupt politicians. He chooses to express his disapproval for America’s leaders by

employing undertones of criticism in everything he authors, from making pointed comments like

“show some respect” (found in “Genocide! Thousands died! Isn’t that a hoot?”) to explicitly

describing the President as “Brobdingnagian” (slipped among other anti-Trump invective in

“Nope, she shouldn’t have said it. But potty-mouth Trump has the nerve to be offended?”). His

two audiences contrast each other immensely — one group uphold morals of love while the other

does not — solidifying him as both a versatile motivator and critic.

With tirades against American leaders themselves come tirades against their hypocritical

acts; such is the case with Pitts, who fashions his columns as a tool to voice his lack of support

for various domestic policies or informal actions. From calling for immigration reform so

children are not forced to advocate for themselves in court to condemning Trump’s vulgarity

when addressing women, Pitts makes it clear that the way the country is treating “outsiders” and

those low on the social ladder is “abhorrent to morality or virtue,” a sentiment that he expresses

in “Nope, she shouldn’t have said it… ” and echoes in almost every other column. Pitts concerns
himself with the state of humanity and relationships in the United States, a worry which he

effectively expresses with his signature short, frustrated bursts of syntax contrasted with

vehemently complex diction. His frequent utterances of “Have you slapped your knee yet?”

(“Genocide…”), “Lord, give me strength” (Nope, she shouldn’t have said it…”), and other witty

remarks are reminiscent of both a fired-up preacher and an exasperated citizen, bringing his

columns a touch of humor and showing his eagerness to relate to and convince his readers of the

necessity of unity.

On a larger scale, like the concept of white guilt that he tries so hard to incite with his

predictable discussions of the injustices of white history, or a smaller scale, like his call to

dismantle stereotypes about black men in “Don’t believe the ‘absent’ myth, Black fathers are

present and accounted for in their kids’ lives,” Pitts values accountability above all else. He

plainly wants the oppressed to be treated with respect and given the amends they deserve. He

does not tangle himself in the guise of taking the high road, nor does he hold back from spewing

mouthfuls of condemnation. While his fiery censure may make some (primarily those who do

not want to acknowledge the hatred of the country) squirm, it is deliberate and moving. He fights

for ridiculed Native Americans, for harassed women, and everyone in between. Far from being

sedated and the last to listen to orders to “sit down and let America be,” Pitts is an avid social

justice warrior in the best sense of the word. His motives are simple and reflected in his eloquent,

impassioned calls for compassion — he wants love to once again be ingrained in the fabric of

American society and politicians’ lives, and will stop at nothing to make his desire a reality.