“Darkness cannot drive out darkness. Only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” Martin Luther King, Jr.
Given the nature of this blog, I am sure you know that I value words and never underestimate their power. I usually contemplate a single word at length, striving to get beyond its definition to uncover its deeper meaning for me personally. Impractical? Yes. Still, I believe that human expression through language is unique and complex, deserving of both restraint and respect.
As children, my siblings and I easily threw about the word hate. "I hate broccoli!" "I hate math!" "I hate going to Sunday school!" Sometimes, other children were recipients of our hateful sentiments, too. In response, I remember clearly how my father, who grew up in WWII Germany, taught us not to use the word hate and throw it around so casually. He reminded us that we didn't really understand hate as he had experienced it, and we should use it sparingly. It was a stinging reprimand.
As a high school teacher, I often discussed the use of profanity with my students. Most teenagers (if they haven't done so at a younger age) go through a phase of pushing boundaries through the use of profanity. Swear words are used to shock, to gain peer acceptance and build status, and to express often overwhelming emotions. Profanity has its place, but teenagers often use profanity superficially as a means of expression that never gets to the heart of the issue at hand.
I would argue that in a language as rich as English with an estimated one million words, my students could express themselves otherwise in a more productive and thorough manner. Getting beyond swear words to build effective communication skills would serve them far better in the long run. I wanted my students to be heard. So, I taught them to choose words wisely, setting the groundwork to be respected by respecting others through their speech. Often, it was a hard sell.
As a parent, I have tried to teach my daughters to think before they speak. I remind them that their words should be positive: they should build up others or work to improve a situation. This doesn't mean that you don't have to say difficult things sometimes or that others will always be happy to hear what you have to say. Rather, the goal is to speak thoughtfully and not simply lash out impertinently. We all struggle to restrain ourselves at times, but in my experience children are as capable as adults of understanding the difference between words meant to hurt and those meant to help.
Martin Luther King, Jr. was a master of communication. He knew how to choose words exceptionally well such that nonviolent protest became an overwhelmingly powerful tool for social change. As a result, King left a lasting verbal legacy. His words continue to live well beyond the man, to remain applicable to changing times, and to offer inspiration and insight when we become weary with the world. How profoundly this contrasts with Tweets sent impulsively at 3:00 a.m. of "words that make my stomach plummet" like a petulant child who was never been taught better! Let's live up to King's example and begin to demand more in speech (as in action) of others as well, especially those elected to represent us and our nation's ideals.
Words That Make My Stomach Plummet
Mira McEwan
Committee Meeting. Burden of Proof.
The Simple Truth. Trying To Be Nice.
Honestly. I Could Have Died. I Almost Cried.
It’s Only a Cold Sore.
It’s My Night. Trust Me. Dead Serious.
I Have Everything All Under Control.
I’m Famous For My Honesty.
I’m Simply Beside Myself. We’re On The Same Page.
Let’s Not Reinvent The Wheel.
For The Time Being. There Is That.
I’m Not Just Saying That.
I Just Couldn’t Help Myself. I Mean It.
