Skip to main content

Sticks and Stones

For the past several days, since the tragic shooting in Arizona, that childhood taunt has been running through my mind.  "Sticks and stone may break my bones but names will never hurt me."  Even as I child I knew that wasn't true.  Names do hurt.  Words do have power to harm.  Ask anyone who has heard over and over from a parent, "You'll never amount to anything." "You're just like your (mother, father, sister, brother, uncle, aunt, etc.)"
In my home, calling someone stupid or retard was a sin.  My mother had a sister with Down's Syndrome and I had a cousin who was mentally retarded from birth.  Those words were never allowed, not even in anger.  
I once called someone a 'fruit'; I didn't even know what it meant, I had heard it on the playground at school.  The word flew out of my mouth and I was immediately summoned by my mother, "Katherine Cecelia, what did you say?"  She tried to explain to my 11 year old mind why the word might be offensive, but the message was clear.  Words can hurt.
The internet has given people the ability to share words with the speed of light.  You can tweet and IM, email and blog any old idea that you have and someone out there is listening.  Someone is going to take your words to heart and act on them.  As a writer and a reader, as a person who gives thought to her words and agonizes over what she wants to say, I have found the internet to be a marvelous place to share my ideas, my hopes and dreams.  I have met wonderful people who have enriched my life beyond measure. 
But I have also encountered people, ideas and words that strike fear into me.  It has been my practice to ignore those words and ideas, to dismiss them as extreme and not something that rational, thinking people would give any countenance.   Alas, I, along with many thousands of others, have been mistaken.  Words - hateful, angry, dark, incendiary words - have given license to a culture of violence that must be addressed. 
I'm not talking about laying blame or pointing to this or that individual.  I'm saying that the time has come for all of us - most especially those in positions of influence and power - to think before we speak.  To count to ten when we are angry.  To breath deeply and consider what we want our words to do.  If we are encouraging people to act, be very specific about the action we want them to take.  To understand that words are violent and they can kill.

Comments

Jenn Flynn-Shon said…
As a child who was picked on incessantly in grammar school and up through the early part of high school I can definitely attest to the fact that words can hurt worse than fists. Psychological damage from taunting or bullying is even more of a hot button issue these days too. I wish it had been more so when I was growing up but the world was really a different place back then.

So much of what you said here resonates really deep. Thanks for sharing your own words of compassion. Even if you didn't mean for them to be so they are full of caring and positivity. ♥
Linda Myers said…
I found you through Jenn Flynn-Shon. I completely agree with your assessment of thought before speech. I can still remember some cruel comments made by classmates - and my mother! - 50 years ago.

Popular posts from this blog

If you find yourself in the dark, all you can do is sit until your eyes adjust to the blackness.  I don't know who said that, but I sure do feel that way these days. Here's a little bit about me.  I was the seventh child born to my mother and father - and the last.  I was 7 years younger than the youngest and 19 years younger than the eldest.  My mother, who grew up in a family of actors, had started a little theatre group in our home town and after being away from it for so many years, she wasn't about to give it up again.  So I grew up in the theatre.  Played in make-up rooms and costume shops.  Learned how to read by helping actors study lines.  Learned how to build and paint by helping my dad build sets.  And I loved all of it. I loved the stories and the people and the way everyone came together to express ideas.  I still love it.  It's why I studied theatre in college and why I pursued an MFA.  Nothing gives me as much pleasure as taking words from a page and

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING HUMAN

I couldn't sleep last night.  Not an unusual thing these days.  There's a lot on my mind.  But last night I was thinking about social media and how it has changed our world. How it changed my world. About 25 years ago, I was working on my thesis in grad school.  We had a Mac in our home which was not uncommon, but certainly not as common as it is today.  I was introduced to the academic world via Bulletin Boards, User Groups, and the ever popular ListServ.  For those of you too young to know, these were email lists you subscribed to and every day you would get individual emails from people on the list discussing whatever it was you wanted to discuss.  There were listservs for science and research, literature, children, whatever you loved so much you wanted to talk about it with complete strangers.  My choice was movies. I love movies.  I've loved them my whole life.  I would sneak out of my bed and watch the late show on weekends.  I went to the matinee every Saturday. 

It just sucks...

You want to know what the worst part about moderate to severe depression? (using the clinical diagnosis here) It's knowing when those waves hit you that there is something or someone out there that you let get to you. In my case, it's usually a combination of things. I've got multiple projects coming to deadline at work - stress. I'm not sleeping very well because of allergies. I'm not eating like I should be. I'm getting my exercise - walking, yoga - which is a positive because that's usually the first thing to go. And so I'm vulnerable to those triggers and I know it. I avoid mr. ring on his finger 'cause that will just send me over the edge. But I can't keep him from coming onto my floor and sitting down at the cubicle next to me and talking to someone else. So I put on the headphones and hit play on Itunes and what do I get....love songs. Crap. And even he wouldn't get to me if the really big trigger hadn't been flipped jus