Now I’ve got some shit to say, and I honestly don’t give a fuck if it pisses people off. Fuck it.
I find it hypocritical as hell when people express sympathy for victims of school shootings but then turn around and defend Lindsay Clancy. And before anyone starts putting words in my mouth, let me explain what the fuck I mean.
First, let me be clear: Lindsay Clancy is entitled to the presumption of innocence, just like anybody else. Allegations are not convictions, and we should not pretend otherwise. But that doesn’t mean we have to ignore the allegations, the evidence presented in the case, or the questions surrounding what happened.
What I absolutely cannot stand is seeing people turn this case into some kind of movement where questioning or criticizing Lindsay Clancy is supposedly an attack on women as a whole.
And yes, I’m talking about the people who have tried to frame her case as some kind of #MeToo movement.
Are you fucking kidding me?
The #MeToo movement was about exposing sexual harassment, abuse, and the power structures that allowed people to get away with those things. It was about giving people a voice when they had been silenced. It was not supposed to mean that every woman accused of something automatically becomes a victim who must be defended against criticism.
Women deserve support. Women deserve fair treatment. Women deserve access to mental healthcare. None of that means women should be immune from scrutiny when serious allegations are made against them.
Supporting women does not mean blindly defending every woman.
And before somebody decides that I’m a sexist for saying this, save it. I’m not arguing that women are inherently more dangerous, less trustworthy, or less deserving of compassion. I’m questioning why certain people seem willing to abandon their usual principles when the person at the center of a case fits a particular image of someone they want to protect.
And that brings me to privilege.
Because, yes, I think privilege is part of this conversation.
We cannot pretend that race, gender, public perception, and the way society views motherhood have absolutely no influence on how people respond to criminal allegations. A white woman who is perceived as a loving mother suffering from a mental health crisis may receive a very different kind of public sympathy than someone who doesn’t fit that image.
Mental illness deserves to be taken seriously. Postpartum mental health struggles deserve serious attention. But mental illness should not automatically be used to dismiss allegations, disregard evidence, or turn the accused person into a martyr.
And what about the people who have questioned the treatment of a Black juror who reportedly held out during deliberations in this case? Why aren’t we having more serious conversations about the racial dynamics surrounding this entire situation?
I am not claiming that I can prove a new jury would be selected unfairly, or that I know what would happen in another trial. But when questions arise about how a juror was treated, particularly when race becomes part of the discussion, I think those questions deserve to be examined rather than brushed aside.
If we’re going to talk about systemic privilege in other cases, we shouldn’t suddenly decide that the subject is off-limits because we sympathize with the defendant.
And let’s talk about the husband for a moment.
I’ve seen people suggest that he must be guilty because of things he allegedly did or said, or because they find his behavior suspicious. But being strange, acting in a way that other people don’t understand, or making decisions that look questionable in hindsight does not automatically make someone guilty of a crime.
We don’t know everything about what happened behind closed doors. We shouldn’t pretend we do.
The same standard should apply to everybody involved. Examine the evidence. Consider alternative explanations. Question inconsistencies. Don’t convict somebody in the court of public opinion simply because you find them suspicious.
But that same standard has to apply to Lindsay Clancy, too.
You cannot demand that people extend compassion, nuance, and the presumption of innocence to one person while treating questions about the case as evidence of misogyny. You cannot insist that everyone examine the circumstances surrounding her actions while dismissing the concerns of people who disagree with your interpretation.
That’s not consistency. That’s picking and choosing when your principles matter.
And now, let’s get back to the actual point of this post: school shootings.
Because I don’t want this entire discussion to become another post about Lindsay Clancy. I’ve already talked about her in other posts, and I could spend all day discussing the arguments surrounding her case.
What bothers me is the apparent contradiction between how some people respond to victims and how they respond to allegations against someone they sympathize with.
When children are killed or injured in a school shooting, we rightfully talk about the innocent lives affected. We talk about the parents who will never get to hug their children again. We talk about the classmates who witnessed something they should never have had to experience. We talk about teachers, families, and entire communities that have to live with the consequences.
And we should.
But if you can recognize the humanity of school shooting victims, understand the devastation their families experience, and demand accountability for the people responsible, then why does that compassion apparently become conditional when the accused person is somebody you want to defend?
Why is compassion for victims suddenly treated as secondary to protecting the public image of the accused?
Why does accountability become a dirty word when it might challenge a narrative that people have already decided they want to believe?
And no, I’m not saying that every person who supports Lindsay Clancy necessarily lacks sympathy for school shooting victims. People can hold complicated views, and supporting someone’s right to a fair trial is not the same as declaring them innocent.
I’m talking about the people who go beyond that. The people who dismiss concerns about the alleged victims, turn criticism into an attack on women, or treat every person questioning their position as an enemy.
You can care about mental health AND care about victims. You can oppose sexism AND question a woman’s alleged actions. You can support due process AND demand that the evidence be taken seriously. These things are not mutually exclusive.
And if your compassion depends on whether the accused person fits your preferred narrative, then maybe you need to take a hard look at what you actually believe.
Because the victims of school shootings aren’t political props. They aren’t talking points to bring up when convenient and forget when a case challenges your worldview.
They’re human beings.
Their families deserve compassion. Their suffering deserves recognition. And the public deserves a conversation about accountability that doesn’t disappear whenever the circumstances become uncomfortable.
So, yes, I’m going to call out what I see as hypocrisy. I’m going to question the role privilege plays in these conversations. And I’m going to criticize people who claim to stand for justice while seemingly making exceptions for the people they sympathize with.
You don’t have to agree with me. You can criticize my argument. You can tell me I’m wrong.
But don’t tell me that demanding consistency, questioning privilege, and remembering the victims somehow makes me a sexist.
If we genuinely care about victims, then that compassion cannot depend on who the accused person is, how sympathetic their story sounds, or whether acknowledging the victims complicates a narrative we want to believe.
Because justice should not be selective.
And neither should our empathy.