Disclaimer: I had some idea of where I was going with this post when I started, but it didn’t end where I expected, so look for a sequel on fake news and information processing at a later date.

I’ve loved reading for as long as I can remember. As an extension of that, I’ve loved words and how they can be put together. I never won any spelling bees, and I didn’t study linguistics, but my dedication to choosing the exact right words every time is one of the reasons my edits take so long. [Example: It took me over an hour to compile this post.] Words aren’t straightforward. Even the same one can carry a different weight and tone depending on where you put it. I love the versatility of that… but I’ve also learned that it can be dangerous.

Actions speak louder than words.

While I think this is still true, and a person’s intent can only earn them so much benefit of the doubt, people have started paying more attention to how we talk to each other. Derogatory nicknames, racial slurs, misinformation, sexism, body shaming, hate speech… previous generations didn’t bat an eye at these kinds of things. You probably have a relative who still jokes about your cousin’s full plate at Thanksgiving and makes fun of Tim Tebow for crying at a football game. Numerous Disney films now include a trigger warning at the start about stereotyping [this isn’t exactly the same as language use, but I’m going to say it’s close enough to make my point]. When a film or tv show is said to be aging poorly, it’s often partly due to some or several instances of harmful language.

Correcting our language isn’t just about recognizing our past, though, but finding better ways to express ourselves and communicate with each other. Some people seem to think that makes us too sensitive, that wanting the words that color the air we breathe to be softer or stronger or sacred, and I agree that taking others’ words too personally can do more harm than good. But I have to ask… what’s wrong with sensitivity? Injustice is supposed to make us angry. Lies are supposed to make us suspicious. Hate is supposed to make us sad.

You don’t want people to have to walk on eggshells around you all the time, do you?

I think sensitivity became an insult the day boundary-setting became an aggressive act, which is why it feels silly to explain or justify why words bother you. Boundaries can be vague and nebulous; words can too. You may also wonder whether you really have the right to dictate how someone speaks. While the answer is ultimately no, you do have a say in what you tolerate, even if it feels foreign to make demands of people you love. Unlearning a habit takes time, and we’ve been conditioned to brush off things that make us uncomfortable, because a relationship or a career or a reputation is considered more important than phrases or terms that disappear into thin air.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

That’s not true, though, is it? In fact, you could argue that mental and emotional wounds caused by harmful language are actually much harder to heal than external cuts or bruises. And yet, it’s also a lot easier to tell yourself not to egg someone’s house than it is to remind yourself to use the right name or pronouns for them. It’s a different part of our brain, I think, that drives words. It’s a different part of our brain that tells us what offends us, what hurts us, what we should think about ourselves. It’s a different part of our brain that wants to be helpful and is willing to do the work of remolding itself in order to do so. The way we talk to each other will always be a difficult pattern to break — that’s why we still text our exes; we know how to talk to them — but difficulty does not equal pointlessness.

So, yeah, maybe be more careful what you say to people? Even if it’s a little uncomfy…

-Love, Claire