“Ka-MA-la, KA-ma-la, Kamala-mala-mala, I Don’t Know, Whatever.”

You may recognize the quote above, which comes from the unspeakable David Purdue, attempting to warm up the crowd for Orange Man’s superspreader rally in Nuremberg, Georgia.

As Paul the Apostle once had occasion to observe, when I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, and I thought as a child. But when I became a man, I put away childish things.

When I was a little redneck, we mocked other ethnic groups, including their names, their accents, their preferred style of dress, their religion and their food.

In the fourth grade, the teacher had us do a class project—creating a cookbook made up of favorite family recipes. One of my classmates was the son of a World War II war bride. The recipe he brought was for Hungarian goulash. We mocked him unmercifully, until he cried in shame. We little idiots had no earthly idea what Hungarian goulash might be, but it sounded icky, and we sure as hell weren’t going to eat any of it.

Then, some of us grew up. Some of us learned not to mock what we had not experienced and what we didn’t understand.

Some of us put away childish things, but some did not.