(And why I don’t feel the need to watch any more of the videos)

By now you’ve all seen the video, or at least the still photo of the young man with the smirk. Video surfaced of a March for Life anti-abortion rally in which it appears that a group of young men (students from Covington Catholic High School) is taunting a Native American elder who is playing the drums. At the center of the controversy is Nick Sandmann, a young man directly in front of the Native American, Nathan Phillips. The boy is wearing a Make America Great Again hat and a… smile. We’ll call it a smile.

Since the video was first released, people came to the boys’ defense. Arguments were made, more videos were made public, more of the story was pieced together. Some say the boys were provoked. Some say it was the adults that were behaving badly. Some say that it was much ado about nothing; a peaceful protest that was taken out of context. All over Facebook people are being urged to watch more video, to get the full picture, to not make assumptions.

I don’t want to watch more video. And I don’t need to know more of the story. Because what I want to talk about is that hat. That blasted MAGA hat on that kid’s head, and what it says … all by itself. No video needed.

Because that hat stands for something. Someone who would deliberately wear that hat stands for something. Hint: It’s not about making America great again.

Wearing that hat shows support for a man who bragged about sexual assault.

Wearing that hat shows support for a man who is openly racist, sexist, homophobic and misogynistic.

Wearing that hat shows support for a man who openly mocked a disabled reporter.

Wearing that hat shows support for a man who continues to use his platform to degrade, to insult, and to provoke his fellow Americans.

Wearing that hat shows support for a narcissistic blowhard who is led solely by his own fragile little ego.

Wearing that hat shows support for a man who is supposed to be leading our country and instead spends his time playing schoolyard tit for tat on Twitter.

The hat says something.

I don’t know exactly what happened that day. And I don’t know Nick Sandmann. Fortunately, or unfortunately as the case may be, I don’t need to. The hat tells me everything I need to know.