Hillbilly Elegy

kept the school bully from messing with
me, connected me to my mother when
some man or his children insulted her
(even if I agreed with the substance of
the insult), and gave me something,
however small, over which I exercised
complete control. For the first eighteen
or so years of my life, standing down
would have earned me a verbal lashing
as a “pussy” or a “wimp” or a “girl.”
The objectively correct course of action
was something that the majority of my
life had taught me was repulsive to an
upstanding young man. For a few hours
after I did the right thing, I silently
criticized myself. But that’s progress,
right? Better that than sitting in a jail cell