Not Unfamiliar
Michael Hobbes↱ observes, "This is about Sandy Hook but it could be about anything. There's a sick pattern to conspiracy theorists simply deciding that someone 'doesn't seem honest' or that totally normal details 'don't add up.'"
It has to do with
Elizabeth Williamson's↱ article for
Slate:
When we spoke, I asked her whether she doubted Sandy Hook because first grade children being murdered in their classrooms was too hard for her to face. "No. I just had a strong sense that this didn't happen," she said. "Too many of those parents just rub me the wrong way."
She judged the parents as "too old to have kids that age." She found their clothes dowdy, their hairstyles dated. Where were their "messy buns," "cute torn jeans," their "Tory Burch jewelry"? She mocked their broken stoicism. Their lives had fallen to pieces, but in Watt's mind they seemed "too perfect," and also not perfect enough.
The slug title runs, "Shooting at Uvalde: A conspiracy theorist explains why she says no kids were ever killed." The actual headline says, "'Prove to the World You've Lost Your Son'". It's something someone once said to a parent whose child died in the Sandy Hook massacre.
Kelley Watt, a.k.a., "gr8mom", is a grandmother who says her "whole life has been about kids", that her biggest regret is not being a schoolteacher, has a website laden with photos of what she considers "Beautiful Children", and also claims, "Sandy Hook is my baby."
She judged the parents as "too old to have kids that age." She found their clothes dowdy, their hairstyles dated. Where were their "messy buns," "cute torn jeans," their "Tory Burch jewelry"? She mocked their broken stoicism. Their lives had fallen to pieces, but in Watt's mind they seemed "too perfect," and also not perfect enough.
Watt had read widely about the shooting and the families, choosing from each account only the facts that suited her false narrative.
She brought up Chris and Lynn McDonnell, parents of 7-year-old Grace, a child with striking pale blue eyes who liked to paint. Lynn McDonnell told CNN's Anderson Cooper that Grace had drawn a peace sign and the message "Grace Loves Mommy" in the fogged bathroom mirror after her shower, leaving traces her mother found after her death. She described the abyss she felt upon seeing her daughter's white casket and recalled how she, Chris, and Grace's brother, Jack, used markers to fill its stark emptiness with colorful drawings of things Grace loved.
Watt mocked this reminiscence in a singsong tone. "'Ohhhhh, Grace. She loved loved loved loved loved Sandy Hook, and we're glad she's in heaven with her teacher, and she's with her classmates, and we feel good about that,'" she said. "'She had a white coffin, and we busted out the Sharpies and drew a skillet and a sailboat.'NOBODY CRIED," she barked.
Watt's feral lack of empathy astonished me. Watt a few minutes earlier had boasted about her son Jordan's voracious reading habits and how well her daughter, Madison, played the piano. If Watt's children died, wouldn't she also speak highly of them and their gifts?
"No. This was to build up the sympathy factor," she said. "I think they're people with a gun control agenda.
"If Jordan died, I wouldn't be in Washington lobbying," she added.
It's one thing if Williamson turns to make the point that Watt, whose life is about children, ignored her own, "obsessed with saving families from imagined government plots while her own family unraveled around her." And such results are indeed their own tragedies; Watt laments, "Oh, my God, yes. I have so much guilt."
But what stands out about both Williamson's article and Hobbes' twittery is that what in some ways feels like it should be extraordinarily distal and even nearly impossible is actually something very proximal and observable and accessible: We see similar attitudes and behaviors, hear common stories, and even make easy excuses, in our own lives. We might consider her behavior vicious and even extreme, but it is not nearly so rare or isolated or extraordinary as we so often pretend.
Watts' excuse, for instance, "Too many of those parents just rub me the wrong way", is not really so far from complaining that
"paternalism and condescension"↗: Just like we are to excuse white supremacism because people who believe in equality are too paternalistic and condescending, grieving parents whose circumstance becomes symbolic of what someone disdains just rub that one the wrong way. And in its way, Kelley Watt is not unlike a conservative lamentation from
over a decade ago↗, that one "purports to discuss liberal contempt for conservatism, then simply concludes 'of course we have contempt for them, they're a bunch of fuckin' idiots'." The way that line was supposed to work, once upon a time, is not how it has worked out over time; what the other described; it's a weirdly subtle joke, because Kelly Watts' career as a right-wing conspiracist precedes even Sciforums, and shows relationships between what seems mundane conservative politicking and the rightist extremism we are so often expected to pretend is an entirely separate phenomenon of mysterious origin.
Watt's children were barely in grade school when a neighbor urged her to join a battle against the passage of Oklahoma House Bill 1017, aka the Education Reform Act of 1990. The proposed overhaul, including new curricula and testing standards, would cost more than $500 million over five years, funded through a tax increase. "I didn't even know property taxes funded the schools," Watt said, but the cost wasn't the problem. She believed the reforms masked the government's true intent: "dumbing down the population," asserting control. She threw herself into the campaign, speaking at meetings, picketing, making phone calls late into the night. She lost; the bill passed. But the campaign "changed my life," Watt said. "I kept going and going."
Watt exposed what she claimed were examples of social engineering in reading texts, math problems, even the free lunch program. Her group campaigned to ban a book titled Earth Child and its corresponding science curriculum, saying it taught children to worship "Earth above humans." She compiled stacks of "research," pressing it on PTA parents and local politicians, hand-delivering it to the Tulsa World newspaper and the city's three network affiliates. She grew enraged when ignored, ringing people in the middle of the night and turning up at their offices and homes.
"Every education reporter during that era remembers her," Ginnie Graham, a Tulsa World writer who covered education at the time, told me. Well-spoken and fashionably dressed, Watt came off at first "like any active PTA mom," Graham said. "But it didn't take long to uncover more conspiratorial thoughts."
The long story short is that the family business went under, the family fell apart, and some time later, Watt met Duke, who hired her to clean his house after chatting politics in a pub, and they started dating and moved in together. She explains things in terms near to platitude: "When you're poor, you have more time to do stuff. You clean two or three houses a day, and you have a lot of time left over." And while there is much to "seeking truth, seeking justice", she at least pretends to feel guilty about what it means "to persevere, be determined, and stick to your guns".
"Watt's children were barely in grade school," Williamson explains, "when a neighbor urged her to join a battle against the passage of Oklahoma House Bill 1017, aka the Education Reform Act of 1990." By the time of the Sandy Hook massacre, Watt had run in rightist-crackpot circles for over twenty years.
"This is about Sandy Hook," Hobbes wrote, "but it could be about anything."
Creationism, diversity, human rights: Watts' political fervor was never far from the conservative mainstream. In more recent years, rightists have made much noise about common core; these days it is Critical Race Theory, gender, and wokeness. Throughout, consider the range of people for whom the problem with
"Kinder, Küche, Kirche" has to do with church and religion, but worry that we shouldn't be so quick to call such obligation of women sexist. The boundaries describing the difference between respectable conservative pretense and right wing fanaticism have almost completely eroded; it's the difference between the years spent fuming over make-believe complaints about education and years spent harassing the parents of murdered children. As Williamson tells:
Hours after the elementary school shooting in Uvalde, Texas, that left 19 children and two teachers dead, it began.
"I'm sorry but I have to say it," one poster wrote on a far-right message board. "We have to have another false flag shooting, killing small children."
"Those directing false flags know the emotional response from the Buffalo shooting is wearing down for the sheep," another person posted online. "So they did another one in Uvalde Texas to reinforce the response. Don't be fooled. False Flag season is here."
This script could have come from 10 years ago—and in fact, some of the same people spreading lies about Uvalde have been doing it for a decade.
No, that one isn't sorry to say it. They carry on this way because they can, because for decades, people have been willing to make excuses for them. It might not have always been clear,
i.e., thirty years ago, just how awful these people were, but we've also had thirty years to learn.