Charles arrives at school with his mother. In a meeting with Principal Jeff Anderson, Vice Principal Pfohl, and two police officers, he is questioned about weapons or intent to harm. After denying violent intent, Charles provides a written confession. Pfohl later hugs him, assuring things will be sorted out. He receives a five-day suspension.

The administrators interview Greg and Patrick with their parents—Greg for touching Andrea’s hair, Patrick for offensive comments. On his parents’ advice, Greg makes no statement. Patrick admits to “irresponsible comments” intended as “edgy jokes.” Other followers are called in without parents. Many are frightened; one recalls police handing him a hate crimes brochure. Most cooperate; all followers receive two- or three-day suspensions.

On Wednesday, March 22, Brutsri, a Sri Lankan American student, is in algebra class when Andrea shows him a post making a derogatory reference to his skin color. Brutsri shrugs it off, insisting he won’t let hateful comments affect him. His reaction annoys Andrea, who feels he refuses to acknowledge racism. She believes immigrant parents often condition children to harden themselves to racism instead of resisting it.

At the Feminist Club meeting on March 21, Billie, who is Black and Jewish and a freshman new to the majority-white school, learns she was also targeted. She flees to a bathroom stall, reflecting on being bullied for other aspects of her identity but never for race. Security guard Josette Wheaton coaxes her out and escorts her to Vice Principal Pfohl, who informs her a post mocked her hair. Billie thinks about the irony of her upcoming debate topic: whether Confederate symbols should be removed from college campuses.

By March 21, most teachers remain largely uninformed about the racist posts. Principal Anderson holds a brief faculty meeting but withholds names, leaving staff in the dark. Nevertheless, teachers witness student confrontations and sense anger, fear, and hurt.

Written in the second person, this chapter describes a targeted girl’s internal experience navigating a school day. She struggles to get out of bed and look in the mirror, seeing herself through the racists’ lens. She experiences physical anxiety symptoms while trying to “seem okay” as sympathy from classmates and teachers threatens to break down protective walls.

On March 22, Ray Newsome, the girls’ basketball coach and one of the few Black district employees, receives a text with the image depicting him and Lolia with nooses drawn around their necks. His heart sinks, especially for Lolia. Receiving a barrage of other horrific images, he learns the account was created by Charles, whose sister he coached, and wonders what motivated such an act.

Andrea confronts Wyatt, an @yungcavage follower. She acknowledges he defended her in one comment but is furious he didn’t report the account or defend other victims. Teacher Kevin James watches from a distance. When Andrea cries, Wyatt apologizes. He reaches to comfort her, but she swats his hand away and tells him not to touch her.

This chapter provides context for the racist trope comparing Black people to gorillas, which originated in the 1600s. The former enslaved abolitionist Frederick Douglass drew attention to how the trope was used to justify enslavement by dehumanizing Africans and perpetuating stereotypes of Black women as more masculine than white women, impervious to pain, and hypersexual. Slater introduces misogynoir—a term coined by Moya Bailey for the unique intersection of racism and misogyny faced by Black women—and adultification, where Black girls are perceived as more mature, needing less protection than white girls. The chapter concludes the gorilla comparison conveys a brutal story: “You aren’t human […], And so you can’t be hurt” (127).

This poetic, fragmented chapter reflects on the boys’ apologies as inadequate. Because not everyone gave or received an apology, the gestures felt incomplete. A few targeted students receive a heartfelt apology, but its impact is fleeting, like “a snowflake on your cheek” (128).

Between March 21 and 22, Charles texts Otis saying he is thinking about ending his own life. Concerned, Otis tries to raise the issue with administrators during his interview, but they remain focused on the investigation. Kerry worries after observing Charles in person. After Charles’s mother informs Principal Anderson of her son’s suicidal thoughts, three officers conduct a welfare check the next day. Charles assures them he is okay. The following day, the school officially recommends expulsion.

Charles acknowledges that any observer would conclude the creator of @yungcavage was a hateful white nationalist. He insists that, although he posted racist content, he was not racist and did not hate the students he targeted.

Charles traces the normalization of racist humor to a specific sophomore-year moment. Jon called Lolia the “N-word” and made racist IQ comments after she allegedly took his pencil. Charles felt uncomfortable but said nothing because Patrick seemed unbothered. Charles explains social hierarchy determined whose opinions mattered. Low-status Wyatt consistently objected but was ignored. However, if a high-status friend like Patrick or Greg had objected, he would have stopped.

The author consults Rosalind Wiseman, expert on teenage boy culture. Wiseman explains being funny is a “commodity” providing social security and status, leading to “competitively funny” behavior where jokes become increasingly extreme. Meanwhile, objecting to offensive content is a violation of social norms that risks having one’s masculinity questioned.

In hindsight, Charles attributes his adoption of racist humor to online culture, particularly the gaming battle arena League of Legends. In this space, racist and antigay slurs were commonplace. The chapter includes an excerpt from Jillian Guffy’s Albany High School newspaper article “What Does It All Meme?” describing how circulating offensive memes creates “vicious competition” that desensitizes young people.

This chapter examines how “ironic racism” spreads extremist ideologies. Hate groups like the Neo-Nazi Daily Stormer exploit the ambiguity of “Poe’s Law” (the difficulty of distinguishing parody from sincerity online), using humor to avoid accountability for racist messages. In 2018, reporter Ashley Feinberg obtained the Daily Stormer’s style guide instructing writers to keep content light so “the unindoctrinated should not be able to tell if we are joking or not” (140). Researchers like Brian Friedberg note anti-Black racism is pervasive in internet culture and memes from far-right forums have become mainstream. Algorithmic filter bubbles funnel users toward extreme content, creating contradictions like Charles, who could write an insightful essay on racism while posting racist memes.

Charles reiterates that his primary motivation was making friends laugh. He dramatized his feud with Andrea for comedic effect, and having viewed many racist memes online, he knew which images—monkeys, nooses, white hoods—were most inflammatory.