I wouldn't necessarily say that I grew up sheltered, but I definitely was sheltered in some respects. I did not know what it was like to grow up hungry, impoverished, or caught in a cycle of systemic racism, but I was at least vaguely aware that these situations existed. Our home was open in different ways to different kinds of needs: a meal, laundry, a listening ear, etc. I heard stories of different struggles enough to understand that people are not always in bad situations because of poor choices and that they at the very least were not "bad people" because they happened to be in some kind of need. However, I would certainly say that I was sheltered to the extent that I did not fully understand the major problems of the world in the same visceral sense and was content to worry about being a middle schooler or otherwise cope with being diagnosed with Crohn's at twelve.
Naturally, then, as I grew and learned new experiences, there were differences in how I thought about many things. I met different people. I listened to different ideas. I exposed myself to new perspectives. And my worldview expanded with it. Where my ideas needed changing, they changed; where my ideas were in line with new evidence, they grew stronger; and several murky grey areas that weren't so clear cut developed further thinking still.
What I'd like to discuss today is something comparatively minor, but still fun to track its progression: between some of that sheltering and particularly growing up in the glass house of a preacher's family, I have had several particular mindsets about swearing. In sequential order, they are as follows:
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"It's just, well, bad."
This was the early phase, where I had to ask what each word meant and accepted that they were words not to be used. This was certainly still a part of growing up in the sense that I accepted what I was told--still asking questions, but accepting the concept all the same. I would say that this expanded to the point where even related words were also tainted, where if I knew it was implied by picking a related word it was still bad enough since the intent was there. Each time I heard them, then, there was that immediate "Oooooooh!" that followed in my head.
"It shows a lack of intelligence."
At this point, I accepted that other people used bad words, stifling down the urge to point out it was a bad word. At most, I pulled a face when someone swore profusely around me, but the shock had worn off. But I still judged them for it. These people only used these words clearly because they didn't have anything better to say or lacked the vocabulary to adequately explain themselves. At this point, related words or words that sounded close substituted for any actual swearword.
"Only when I really need to."
Sometimes when you stub your toe, "fuck" really is the best word to express what you are feeling in that moment. "Oh, poop," is not the right thing to say when something is flying immediately at your head. "Phooey," does not capture the sentiment of a can of paint spilled in your car's interior.
"...Or when it's funny."
Starting to swear, then, brought me into many situations where no one expected me to swear. This made a punchline in and of itself into different jokes and situations, where it caught people off-guard in fun kinds of ways. I'd refer to the guy who cut me off as "some ass-hat." Someone would apologize for swearing, and I would tell them to "watch their fuckin' mouth." I was also aware at this point that overusing something would diminish some of the joke and therefor some of the power of the words themselves, so these were still strategic in terms of with whom and when I said them.
Sailor Status
I can fucking say whatever the fuck I want. I learned not to give a damn--if something was shitty, I called it shitty. I stopped being afraid of these words. There is still a time and a place where they are not appropriate, but in the comfort of my own home and those I was most comfortable with, I can say whatever the fuck I want. And I did. And there were parts that were empowering. I was choosing to express myself in strong language because I had strong feelings. They still brought some of that weight with them, that what I was saying was important to me on some level or I was angry or I was relaxed. In any case, I was no longer ruled by fear of these words--I understood finally the allure of relying more predominantly on these words.
Frickin' Frack
Now, I still worked at a summer camp or in schools or in church or in an office, so there were many situations where dropping an f-bomb was simply not an option, unless someone was bleeding profusely. The swearing started to filter out and instead more "creative" swears started happening. At camp, "What the monkey?" became my "What the hell?/What the fuck?" My current favorite for an exclamation of exasperation is "Seven shades of hell." The more shades there are, the worse it is. So something that is "Four shades of dumb" is not as bad as a circumstance that is seven. In doing so, I found that not swearing could then be its own comedic value, particularly around those who got used to Sailor Status.
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So today, I find that I am a healthy mixture of creative swears and letting loose whatever words I need to in moments that need them, particularly when I am tired or especially upset. I don't look down on people who choose to swear or specifically choose not to. Some might have opted not to read after the warning at the top of the page; I respect that, too. For me, my vocabulary opened up to a new range of things and it took some adjusting to find where I was most comfortable. However, I make the firm distinction not to use any words that are derogatory toward a group of people, words that are intentionally hurtful regardless of how they are used.
All words have different power and connotation; some of that power we give ourselves, some of that power is agreed upon socially. I'm not afraid of any words themselves, but recognize that the intent, the order, and the manner that they are spoken will have power. I can only hope that once that particular sentence has been let out that it was interpreted the way I had intended and be gracious to the other party's feelings on those instances where it was not. It is so easy today to take a text or a comment and infer something else into it, possibly forgetting that the person on the other end may not know you well enough to guess what your particular inflections were when you said this in your head.
Weigh your words carefully, when you're present with people and even more so when you are not. I know a handful of persons that come off as callous jerks on Facebook because they do not consider how they have placed their words. Whenever I am editing something, I give it a bit of time to "cool" before I come back in with a fresher set of eyes. I always know what I intended to write after I just finish writing it, but coming back I am more open to acknowledge basic errors and possible places where my wording could be misconstrued--this has also stopped me from pressing send when I had a knee-jerk reaction to response, that I chose not to perpetuate an unproductive conversation (where the other party in question was only interested in being right rather than discussion).
Whatever words you choose to use, remember to be kind to one another. This requires apologizing and considering others' feeling seriously even if you have hurt them unintentionally. Consider the context of other people in what you are saying but not to the point where you are no longer expressing yourself authentically. It's a balancing act that will only get better with practice. Express yourself and what you are feeling in a way that best meets your needs and, if applicable, in a form that will best meet your need to be understood.
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