The National Association of Black Journalists should rescind Donald Trump’s invitation to the cookout
Editor’s note: The following article is an op-ed, and the views expressed are the author’s own. Read more opinions on theGrio.
My grandmother was a follower of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Every day at sunrise, noon and sunset, she rested all 128 pounds of her body weight on her 74-year-old, cartilage-depleted knees to thank her Lord and Savior for his mercy and grace. In exchange for his divine protection, she lived by the letter of the Mosaic law. She did not steal. She did not bear false witness. And no human being who ever had the honor of basking in the glorious presence of Marvell Harriot would use profanity in her company.
Until she gave her grandson a lesson on blessing, biblical cussing and — most of all — journalism.
At 6 years old, I was either a juvenile storytelling prodigy or my mother’s mother was the most talented improvisational actress in history. Grumma listened patiently to every single word of my rambling childhood stories. She howled with laughter at my jokes and asked follow-up questions. Yet, when I briefly forgot about her anointing, I knew I was in trouble. “Goddamnit!” I yelled while performing a spot-on impersonation of my foul-mouthed uncle’s reaction to a bee sting. “Goddamn these goddamned bees done stung–”
Freezing midsentence as my grandma’s guffaws transformed into shock, I hung my head as she stared at her heretofore favorite grandson. “You can say it,” said my grandmother, shattering the awkward silence. “Long as you ain’t bearin’ false witness. It’s not a sin if it’s the truth.”
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I still wasn’t buying it. Not only had I used the Lord’s name in vain, I might have killed my grandmother. What if my obscene language penetrated Granny’s Holy Ghost deflector shield? Breaking two of the top 10 Commandments at once would surely send me straight to hell. But when she said: “Baby, yo ox in the ditch,” I immediately felt relief. She wanted me to be free.
Grumma was referencing Luke 14. According to the story, a guest at a Pharisee cookout suggested that Jesus was violating his daddy’s rules by healing a sick man on God’s designated day off. “What if your child or your ox falls into a ditch on the Sabbath day,” asked God’s vice president in charge of prayer relations “Would you let them die or would you pull it out?” While the Pharisees didn’t have an answer, if the National Association of Black Journalists wrote the Bible, the scripture would probably be different:
“F*ck them kids.”
— NABJ 3:16
Black journalists matter.
This is not an opinion piece.
It is a fact that Trump told the 2017 NABJ Journalist of the Year to “sit down” when theGrio’s White House Correspondent and Washington Bureau Chief April Ryan confronted him about voter suppression. During a White House press briefing, Trump’s press secretary called for 2018 Journalist of the Year Jemele Hill to be fired. After 2020 NABJ Journalist of the Year Yamiche Alcindor caught him in a lie, Trump wondered why “you people act” so negatively, warning Alcindor to “be nice.” Yet those attacks pale in comparison to Trump’s tweets about Black journalist Don Lemon.
Apparently, none of that matters.
“President Donald J. Trump, 45th President of the United States of America, will participate in a conversation with journalists at the National Association of Black Journalists Annual Convention and Career Fair on Wednesday, July 31, 2024, at 12:00 PM CST,” read a press release by from the lying, aspiring dictator who levied racial attacks against NABJ members. “President Trump will engage in a Q&A with political journalists before an audience of registered convention attendees that will concentrate on the most pressing issues facing the Black community. The event will be moderated by Rachel Scott, senior congressional correspondent for ABC News; Harris Faulkner, anchor of The Faulkner Focus and co-host of Outnumbered on FOX News; and Kadia Goba, politics reporter at Semafor.”
Although Donald Trump describes all media as the “enemy of the people,” NABJ Political Journalism Task Force chair Tia Mitchell was technically correct when she claimed Trump’s appearance is “in line with invitations NABJ has sent to every presidential candidate for decades.” According to the age-old notion of “journalistic objectivity,” I believe we should treat all political candidates equally. But who cares about the rules of objectivity? The letter of the law is less important than the spirit of the law. Whether they serve as religious principles, moral codes or ethical guidelines, the most effective rules are created in service of an outcome, not just to regulate behavior. This universal concept is so simple that a 6-year-old storyteller, a septuagenarian grandparent and even the greatest nepo baby ever born can understand.
Even though I am a dues-paying NABJ member, my feelings about Donald Trump are inconsequential. It is not my opinion that Black journalists make up 6% of the profession. It is not my opinion that ESPN, CNN and MSNBC did nothing to protect employees like Hill, Lemon and Tiffany Cross from racist attacks. As someone who attends the NABJ national convention every year and is also scheduled to lead a convention panel on Project 2025, my belief should not matter. However, NABJ’s stated purpose is “sensitizing all media to the importance of fairness in the workplace for Black journalists” is what matters. An organization that “advocates for Black journalists worldwide” matters. It is not my opinion that welcoming Donald Trump to a place created to protect Black journalists is like asking a slave catcher to the abolitionist’s meeting. Yet, behind the scenes, some of your favorite media icons are clamoring to bask in the orange glow of the biggest threat to democracy since the MAGA minions tried to disappear the ballots of Black voters and overthrow the country we built.
And, for what?
If the greatest Black journalists who ever existed manage to expose Donald Trump for the vile, racist, wannabe dictator that he is, will we learn anything new? Even if they manage to achieve the most rigorous interrogation of the aspiring dictator to date, how many minds will they change? What are they trying to show us about this hate monger that we haven’t already seen? I thought we were going to “protect Black women”? How are we “saving democracy” while aiding and abetting the man who wants to destroy it? Whose minds are they trying to change anyway? Who are they trying to prove themselves to?
The answer is “white people.”
White people are the reason the NABJ exists. We already know white people don’t trust our voices or care about us. If they did, we wouldn’t need an NABJ. If white people listened to Black people, Donald Trump wouldn’t be a presidential candidate in the first place. We are the only ones who believe in performatively following a set of arbitrary rules that we have the power to change. Ask the women who can’t get an abortion because Trump stripped them of their reproductive rights. Ask the “diversity hires” and the people who were victimized by the Trump-inspired rise in white supremacy.
Ask my grumma.
God damn Donald Trump and the National Association of Black Journalists.
I would never use the Lord’s name in vain. Then again, it is not a sin if it is the truth. I want God to damn his presidential campaign. I want my ancestors to smite the false notion of appealing to white sensibilities that fosters an allegiance to ideas and rules created to harm Black people. I want us to protect Black women and ourselves. But more than anything …
I want us to be free.
Michael Harriot is a writer, cultural critic and championship-level Spades player. His NY Times bestseller Black AF History: The Unwhitewashed Story of America is available in bookstores everywhere.