They’re just words
May. 20th, 2013 11:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
storytimewithjoeWhat is a word? A combination of letters arranged to convey a particular meaning – no more and no less. Yet, I think we can all agree in some fashion or another, some words seem to have more power and strength than other words. Sure, languages typically contain mechanisms specifically designed to produce this result. “Gargantuan” is understood to be larger than something described simply as “big”. But then we have other words that have power – and in this country and culture, the amount of power given to some words is enough to scare some people – particular the censors. And it is with that in mind that I write this post.
“Frankly my dear, I just don’t give a damn.” Unless you’ve been living under a rock your entire life, we all know this quote. Yet, this final kiss-off line that Rhett offered to Scarlett before storming off nearly ended up being swept away off of the cutting-room floor, as the censors at the time considered such a reference to be too naughty. Yet fortunately, those in the know were able to get this iconic line onto the big screen – thus resulting in all the more powerful and believable a scene.
I think back in my own life at the power of words, and I somewhat have to chuckle. People who know me nowadays know that, on a regular basis, I often swear like a sailor. But at a time, I was not just naïve about words, but paranoid about saying something considered so bad and so rude that I would accidently Get In Trouble – something I wanted to avoid at all cost!
I remember distinctly one afternoon in my childhood. I had to have been around eight or nine years old, and I was in the passenger seat of the truck with my dad. We were running around town doing some sort of errands, and I happened to look out the window down an alleyway where I saw some graffiti. “Dad,” I said with all the naivety of a young kid. “I just saw a word that I don’t know.” His facial expression changed a bit, obviously getting ready to deal with an uncomfortable situation. “The word was ‘fuck’” I said. And out came the hand.
SMACK! Directly to the cheek.
(Now before anybody yells “Abuse!” this was just the way things were done back at that time. My dad did NOT actually cause pain. My parents both were masters at being able to cause shock-and-awe with a carefully-gauged smack. The object was to surprise rather than to cause pain or injury. And I take no issues with either parent on the very, very few times either laid a hand on me.)
Anyways, my dad got the result he wanted. I was shocked! I didn’t know what happened. I didn’t understand why he hit me. I really didn’t get it at all. But I understood one thing loud and clear even before my dad began to yell – that word that I did not recognize was a BAD word with a LOT of power, and one that I should never, ever, ever, EVER say again! My dad yelled, telling me that it was indeed a bad word, and then invoked the ultimate parental curse, emphasizing that he would need to speak to mom about this. Oh NOES! In trouble with BOTH parents was The Worst Thing EVAH! And yes, I was absolutely terrified! I saw silently for the rest of the trip, dreading our arrival at home. All I could do was sit there, trying not to cry, and holding my cheek. I couldn’t speak. If I did, I might somehow make things worse!
When we got home, I went immediately to my bedroom to await my sentencing. Who knew what horrible fate awaited horrible, terrible little me. Eventually, mom came upstairs to talk to me. I was soooooo upset. “I’m sorry Mom!” I said, as the tears began to flow. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know!” Mom was calm, but gave me the stern-parent-face emphasizing that that word was a bad word and that I must never say it. I swore I would never, ever, ever, say it again (OK, I didn’t exactly keep that promise), but I was curious – what did it mean? So I asked.
“NEVER MIND WHAT IT MEANS!!!!!!” she yelled. “It’s a grown-up word and you don’t need to know!”
And that’s just how it was – period! The Mom had spoken!
Having lived through my own little version of the classic f-bomb scene from A Christmas Story, I look back today and just have to chuckle. Why? Because honestly, I just don’t see what the big deal is – or even was. Words are just words. Oh sure, I believe there is a time and a place for everything. But should we really give words such power? Especially given the context? It is one thing to accidentally say a word – it is another to use it and mean it in a mean or cruel way.
I guess my point is this – given all the issues that exist nowadays that are real and serious and critical issues, don’t we have anything more important to do than to be the word-police? Words only have as much power as we give them.
Let’s not give words more power than merited by their context.
“Frankly my dear, I just don’t give a damn.” Unless you’ve been living under a rock your entire life, we all know this quote. Yet, this final kiss-off line that Rhett offered to Scarlett before storming off nearly ended up being swept away off of the cutting-room floor, as the censors at the time considered such a reference to be too naughty. Yet fortunately, those in the know were able to get this iconic line onto the big screen – thus resulting in all the more powerful and believable a scene.
I think back in my own life at the power of words, and I somewhat have to chuckle. People who know me nowadays know that, on a regular basis, I often swear like a sailor. But at a time, I was not just naïve about words, but paranoid about saying something considered so bad and so rude that I would accidently Get In Trouble – something I wanted to avoid at all cost!
I remember distinctly one afternoon in my childhood. I had to have been around eight or nine years old, and I was in the passenger seat of the truck with my dad. We were running around town doing some sort of errands, and I happened to look out the window down an alleyway where I saw some graffiti. “Dad,” I said with all the naivety of a young kid. “I just saw a word that I don’t know.” His facial expression changed a bit, obviously getting ready to deal with an uncomfortable situation. “The word was ‘fuck’” I said. And out came the hand.
SMACK! Directly to the cheek.
(Now before anybody yells “Abuse!” this was just the way things were done back at that time. My dad did NOT actually cause pain. My parents both were masters at being able to cause shock-and-awe with a carefully-gauged smack. The object was to surprise rather than to cause pain or injury. And I take no issues with either parent on the very, very few times either laid a hand on me.)
Anyways, my dad got the result he wanted. I was shocked! I didn’t know what happened. I didn’t understand why he hit me. I really didn’t get it at all. But I understood one thing loud and clear even before my dad began to yell – that word that I did not recognize was a BAD word with a LOT of power, and one that I should never, ever, ever, EVER say again! My dad yelled, telling me that it was indeed a bad word, and then invoked the ultimate parental curse, emphasizing that he would need to speak to mom about this. Oh NOES! In trouble with BOTH parents was The Worst Thing EVAH! And yes, I was absolutely terrified! I saw silently for the rest of the trip, dreading our arrival at home. All I could do was sit there, trying not to cry, and holding my cheek. I couldn’t speak. If I did, I might somehow make things worse!
When we got home, I went immediately to my bedroom to await my sentencing. Who knew what horrible fate awaited horrible, terrible little me. Eventually, mom came upstairs to talk to me. I was soooooo upset. “I’m sorry Mom!” I said, as the tears began to flow. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know!” Mom was calm, but gave me the stern-parent-face emphasizing that that word was a bad word and that I must never say it. I swore I would never, ever, ever, say it again (OK, I didn’t exactly keep that promise), but I was curious – what did it mean? So I asked.
“NEVER MIND WHAT IT MEANS!!!!!!” she yelled. “It’s a grown-up word and you don’t need to know!”
And that’s just how it was – period! The Mom had spoken!
Having lived through my own little version of the classic f-bomb scene from A Christmas Story, I look back today and just have to chuckle. Why? Because honestly, I just don’t see what the big deal is – or even was. Words are just words. Oh sure, I believe there is a time and a place for everything. But should we really give words such power? Especially given the context? It is one thing to accidentally say a word – it is another to use it and mean it in a mean or cruel way.
I guess my point is this – given all the issues that exist nowadays that are real and serious and critical issues, don’t we have anything more important to do than to be the word-police? Words only have as much power as we give them.
Let’s not give words more power than merited by their context.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Words only have the power we give them...
Date: 2013-05-21 07:52 pm (UTC)I must say, that my own parents' response to me asking what various bad words meant was much milder than your's!. I got a very calm explanation about what the word meant and why I wasn't allowed to use it.
But still, I'm now an adult heading towards 40 and my mom doesn't complain about the occasional "shit" anymore. My brother dropped the F-bomb once and them looked at her and said "What? I'm a trucker." To which she had no reply lol.
Anyway, I just wanted to share my thoughts and experiences with language. I really enjoyed reading your post :)