“Open borders” advocate Nicholas Decker shares his thoughts on totally progressive fatherhood:

So far, so good. If not exactly newsworthy. Perhaps a twist is coming, some needless contrivance.

Ah.

There we go. Not sure if watching is involved.

It seems we’re expected to follow Mr Decker’s lead, into that glorious tomorrow, where cuckoldry is ascendant, an ideal, and where fathers and their children are biologically disconnected and physically estranged. Because that always goes smoothly. No issues there. There follows a rather flattened understanding of genetics, and much convoluted fretting, but the gist is,

At which point, readers may be wondering if there’s something wrong with Mr Decker. I mean, some debilitating condition that he would rather not pass on.

I sense a looming but.

It strikes me as a little odd, in terms of hypothetical fatherhood, comparing one’s own as-yet-unknown potential in that regard against some entirely abstract ideal, the particulars of which remain unclear. Fatherhood, I’ve been told, more than once, is very much a process of discovery, and indeed self-discovery.

I’m reminded of the boastfully oblivious noises poked at here. From childless progressives who claimed to view any hypothetical parenting on their part, the birth of a child, as some arbitrary occurrence, unmoored from any biological inheritance or preceding events. Childless progressives who were seemingly unfamiliar with the strange pleasure of seeing one’s children develop the features and attributes of oneself, one’s partner, and various relatives.

However,

Bodes well.

He cares quite a lot about other people, you see. Just not his own family. Hence pursuing biological disconnection, the breaking of lineage and ancestry. At which point, any passing psychiatrists are welcome to chip in.

And then, of course, there’s the issue of whether biological connectedness might be statistically optimal in terms of parenting, engagement, avoiding neglect, and so forth. As available data would suggest. And which would seem to have bearing on any child’s odds of flourishing and happiness.

Needless to say, replies to Mr Decker on X have been lively:

In educational news:

No, wait. Let’s not rush to conclusions.

However, I think we can walk towards said conclusions at a fairly steady pace.

Since you ask,

Because naffly suggestive pseudonyms are exactly what you hope for at a kindergarten. In this case, at Mildred B. Poole Elementary School.

The educator in question, whose actual name has not been disclosed, took to social media to express his indignation at being asked not to wear his false tail at work. “People wanna be straight up pearl clutching bitches,” he said, in a teacherly manner. Among images of stabbed and bleeding teddy bears, and while describing himself as a “butt-sniffing wolf bitch.”

Parents also suggested that a cross-dressing kindergarten teacher wearing mini-skirts, a BDSM dog collar and black fishnet stockings was, all things considered, a tad inappropriate.

However, despite this assumed imperviousness to normal consequences, the educator in question has since been removed from his paid proximity to children.

Previously in the world of suboptimal hiring decisions.

Because every parent wants their 11-year-old children conscripted into the cross-dressing psychodrama of a mentally unstable teacher, a man thrilled by the thought of children seeing him in various states of undress while discussing “kink” and sexual positions.

“I’m not a predator,” said the teacher, Mr Lamere. “I’m just a woman who happens to be super tall and hot.”

If the incident linked above isn’t sufficiently concerning, I do have more:

A safe place in which he threatens to shoot them. With his collection of firearms.

Consider this an open thread. Share ye links, etc.

Readers may recall this chap here, a cross-dressing educator – the one who records classroom videos of himself faffing about with his wig while expecting applause for his feats of fake-hair management:

This clearly female teacher has a deep voice, do you think it’s from smoking? pic.twitter.com/CGoFhMXy1C

— Dr. Jebra Faushay (@JebraFaushay) May 15, 2025

As I said at the time,

Hence the numerous videos of such men vamping and cavorting in a classroom setting. Marking their territory with an arsenal of bad wigs and curiously oversized fake boobs.

It is, I’d suggest, enormously presumptuous, and selfish, to coerce other people’s children into what amounts to a personal affirmation exercise. A gratuitous flex at their expense. While knowing that the parents of those children may not approve, and may be left to deal with whatever upset or confusion ensues. Any number of inapt or premature questions.

Well. Let’s catch up with the chap in question, Mr James Roman Stilipec, and his predictably emboldened activities:

Videos that his students could easily access. A coincidence, I’m sure.

I know. You’re intrigued. Here you go:

🤰 “I’m having twins!”

Trans teacher openly flaunts his pregnancy fetish online when he’s not in the classroom.

If you didn’t think perverts would exploit gender-identity policies in schools to gain access to impressionable children, look no further.

It’s already happening. pic.twitter.com/La6H5iZYAm

— Gays Against Groomers (@againstgrmrs) November 21, 2025

Yes, it positively screams ideal teacher material.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, parents expressed concern:

“Nobody can see my autogynephilia,” replied Mr Stilipec, with a confidence born of indulgence, and while making sure that any passers-by, including children, could see his colossal fake breasts and fake pregnancy.

Because fake boobs can’t ever be too big. For a certain kind of chap.

A relief to all parents, I’m sure. No hint of anything untoward there. And now that the doors of cross-dressing have been kicked wide open in the name of progress, including the doors to classrooms, I suppose anything goes. Having given away the store.

Our educator, Mr Stilipec, also tells us, “I was dysphoric about [not] having boobs, so I got them.” This prosthetic enhancement, all 36DDD of it, is, we learn, “just for my own self-gratification.” And hey, what’s self-gratification without a captive audience of other people’s children? Five days a week.

But of course.

And because a cake needs icing:

But remember, to be A Good Progressive Person, you must learn to disregard any and all warning signs. Those little flashing red lights.

“Good morning, class.”

Previously in the world of not-at-all-concerning cross-dressing educators, a three-part saga of sorts: One. Two. Three. Though the faint-of-heart may wish to proceed with caution.

Lifted from the comments, via pst314:

Ms Watson, now not so young herself, tells us,

The specifics of this pressure, allegedly pervasive, overpowering and entirely social in nature, are unclear. No examples are forthcoming. The physical realities of reproduction are, however, less mysterious.

The idea that Ms Watson, or likely anyone she knows, any of her multi-millionaire celebrity peers, is being pressured by others, by a brutal society, to get married and presumably have children – and that such hypothetical pressure constitutes “violence” – is, shall we say, difficult to believe.

It seems rather more likely that Ms Watson, 35, is, like many of her self-involved peers, struggling to process her own age-related anxieties. At 35, that fertility window is closing quite rapidly and options that have perhaps been taken for granted, or deferred as insufficiently fashionable, will soon expire.

As someone quips in reply,

Update, via the comments:

EmC adds,

Well, quite. I don’t follow these things closely, but my impression is that there’s a class dynamic in play. That, for some, getting married and having children during the window of optimal viability is now considered low-status, proletarian, somewhat déclassé, especially among women with progressive leanings.

As if this time were obviously better spent pursuing a statusful career and asserting some womanly empowerment, or, in Ms Watson’s case, indulging in activism of a faintly ludicrous kind, claiming to be “self-partnered” rather than single, and insisting that bewigged men are somehow women.

My impression of any social pressure, any class convention, is that it goes in a different direction to the one being claimed. At least among ladies of Ms Watson’s political persuasion. Readers may wish to speculate as to whether childlessness and middle-aged regret will also, in short order, be deemed “violence” and something to complain about during celebrity interviews.

And for some reason, this came to mind:

Something about the dynamic, perhaps.

And in classroom surrealism news:

Because a mentally ill, self-harming woman, one seemingly forever on the verge of tears, is now a “positive example of masculinity.” A role model for primary-school children.