Sticks and Stones

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

I’ve never given much credence to that playground rhyme.

And if you have ever been the pregnant teenage recipient of an older brother’s snarl that you are a slut and not good enough to cross his door step ever again – then you might not either.

And, if you have ever been a pregnant teenage girl, standing in front of a closed door on her brother’s (the chosen one- favorite son) doorstep hearing your father say “You know, your brother always was an ass – let’s go Princess – we need a new stroller.” you also know the flip side- that kind words spoken even without scripted and practiced eloquence but, with heart, can heal.

I understand that the prevailing thought now is all about empowerment with words. That, if we embrace the word and use it as our own – we take the power of the word to hurt us away – and replace it with our own self esteem. This justifies blacks using the “N’ word on each other, gays calling each other fags and overweight folks calling themselves fatties and slugs. “If I get upset by someone calling me a name, then I have given away my power and I need to make a different choice.”

I don’t get this. Words that hurt are expressions of feelings, beliefs and attitudes that hurt.

We have a beautiful language. Words that warm the heart, make our spirits soar and inspire us beyond even the stretch of our language – until we are literally left speechless.

I vote we speak with more kindness and beauty – instead of adopting hurtful words as our own. Let the hurtful words form together into their own little dead language and let the kind and beautiful ones continue to warm our hearts and mend our hurts.

May you speak and hear a beautiful word today.